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writtenontheport · 1 year

Note

Lockwood falling in love with the type three ghost of a girl.

That's it.

That's the ask.

The Haunted Boy and His Ghostly Girlfriend

Prologue

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

Anthony Lockwood x fem reader

Warnings/Tags: Reader is in this for like 2 paragraphs, Romcom 😭, Ik you gave me angst but everything I touch turns romcom I’m so sorry, George gets mad at Lockwood for a bit, Old people clients, mentions of death, Reader is literally a fucking ghost 😭, please tell me if there’s anything I forgot to tag

Notes: I absolutely adored this request omfg. When I saw it, I just KNEW I had to write it omg. This is— this needs to be multipart I’m so sorry. I can’t get it out of my head that he’ll have a little ghostly girlfriend PLEASE ITS SO CUTE IN MY HEAD. Also; very badly edited!! I was exhausted when I first posted this and am still currently combing through it for errors.

Summary: It starts, as all things do here: with a meetcute, the undead, and maybe a bit of tomfoolery. It goes, as it almost never does, with meeting the undead love of his life. What a big day for Anthony Lockwood.

Word Count: 1.5k+

Lockwood is staring into the eyes of the most breathtaking girl he has ever seen, and she isn’t even alive anymore. The girl looks as she probably did when she was alive; a beautiful face with only the most kissable lips he has ever seen in his life, not that he ever could kiss her. He should be calling for Lucy and George— yelling for them to tell them he’s found their ghost, but instead…

“Hi,” He says, clearing his throat, “I’m Anthony. Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood and co. You’re a ghost.”

He winces when your frown deepens, and feels bad immediately for blurting that out. Before he can apologize, he sees you mouthing something and realizes quite late that he does in fact need Lucy and George here to be able to talk to you.

“I can’t really hear you, sorry. I have… my friend can though. Just a second—“

Before we can go forward, we have to go back a little to just before this began. So let’s start with a fact: even with Skull being able to talk with Lucy, Lockwood still had his reservations on type threes. Type ones and type twos were the predictable result of certain situations— murders, death by illness, accidents, and all the “good” things that made the visitors more likely to visit. Type threes? It took the literal manifestation of the actual thing for him to even accept they existed. Suffice to say, Lockwood didn’t think he could ever fully warm up to the idea of a ghost he couldn’t understand.

Then one day, a case comes to him with a rather peculiar situation. The living don’t often find themselves attached to the undead, especially ones with no relation to them. The Thistlebrows prove to be an exception. The case? Their family ghost is lonely now that their granddaughter’s been sent away.

Lucy and George have stepped out for supplies when the old Thistlebrow couple stops by, so he takes them to the sitting room and prepares them tea. From the first word that comes out of them, Lockwood thinks he’s having some sort of hallucinogenic episode.

That’s more of an exaggeration actually as it seemed reasonably normal at first; strong presence, solid apparition visible enough that even in their old age they could see wisps of it lurking. Nothing more than a stubborn spectre, he was sure. Then—

“It’s an old house,” Mrs. Thistlebrow croons, sipping her cup of tea. “We’ve only lived in it for a few years, and we doubt we’ll be able to keep her company for much longer.”

“I’m sorry?” Lockwood asks, genuinely confused. He was sure he must have misheard them, before Mr. Thistlebrow spoke.

“We don’t know where she is, really, nor have we ever fully seen her… but our granddaughter is taken with her. We thought at first she just had an imaginary friend, but then…” He pulls out a polaroid.

There was nothing in the photo worth noting— a pair of shoes on the windowsill of an open window. The flash of the camera didn’t illuminate past the frame, but that was expected for a photo taken so late. He keeps a patient smile on his face, but he nods slowly with his brow furrowed in worry.

“The window was locked when we left the room. It’s too tall for our granddaughter to reach, and nothing was moved before or after this picture was taken— at least not by the living. Our granddaughter had asked her to open it to prove to us she was real, and the ghost left her shoes on the windowsill to hammer it in.” He leaves the photo in front of Lockwood, pulling back into the seat.

Lockwood’s brow scrunches in confusion as the gears turn in his head. Many type twos form apparitions, but poltergeists do not. Incidentally, only poltergeists can interact with heavy objects and the window certainly wouldn’t have been light. It looked to be a thick pane of glass with a metal on wood frame, pushed open farther than a stray breeze could push it.

“How old is your granddaughter?” He asks, his own voice distant to him. The photo makes something in him itch to solve the case.

“Just turned 7,” Mrs. Thistlebrow says with a click of her tongue, bringing a hand up to her wrinkly cheek. “Her parents sent off abroad when they realised she had Talent; didn’t want her having anything to do with the Problem. Heart broken, she was. The ghost was her first best friend.”

The Thistlebrows look genuinely devastated at that, and Lockwood bites back an incredulous frown. Oh the story he has for Lucy and George when they come back, absolutely mental it all is.

“We know this might be a lot to ask, but we’ll pay you as much as you need to keep the ghost company. Our granddaughter was so devastated knowing the poor girl would be lonely without her, and we certainly couldn’t talk to her no matter how much we tried.” Mr. Thistlebrow picks an envelope from his suit pocket, and slides it across the table to Lockwood. It’s a thick thing with obviously quite a bit of cash, and a cheque is peeking out from where the lip has opened.

Now, he could absolutely refuse the case. The agency was stable and the cases they have lined up were far less troublesome than finding and keeping another possible type-three ghost; George would even call him stupid for not refusing it right away, but…

“We’ll do it. You both have nothing to worry about,” He says instead, reassuring as he can be as he pulls on the lapels of his jacket. Mr. and Mrs. Thistlebrow’s faces split into smiles, and Lockwood can’t find it in him to regret his decision.

“—And you took the case?” George says, all but yelling as he leans over the table to stare wide-eyed at Lockwood. Lucy’s frozen in her seat, her pen still on the thinking cloth.

“I authenticated the money, and they offered to meet us at the house as soon as we can if there were any more issues with compensation.” He takes a spoonful of supper, and hums in delight. “You’ve really outdone yourself today, George.”

“That’s not the problem, Lockwood,” George hisses, always so dour. He doesn’t settle down into his seat, even going so far as to cross his arms in disapproval. Still, he mumbles out a quiet ‘thank you’.

“Did they say anything else?” Lucy finally speaks up, her eyes still on the thinking cloth. It’s good she’s at least started doodling again, so Lockwood manages to look back up at both of them (which is very hard when George is glaring at him so severely).

“Their granddaughter’s name is Pepper, thought it might help us if we pretended to be her friends at least. It…” He pauses, tapping his spoon against his supper as he thinks of the right way to say it, “As far as they know, it isn’t aggressive and seems cooperative. They even— actually, wait.”

He pulls out the polaroid from his inner pocket, looking it over (even though he knows nothing would have changed) before sliding it to the center of the table. Lucy and George both lean in to have a look, coming back to stare at him in confusion.

“It was able to unlock and push the window open, then left the girl’s shoes on the windowsill to further prove it existed. Not only that, but both the Thistlebrows have said it is a rather heavy window too high up for their granddaughter to reach.” He takes another bite of his dinner, watching their expressions morph.

“But they said it had an apparition?” George asks first, seeming on the edge of worried and heavily intrigued. “Spectres can’t interact with heavy objects, but poltergeists can’t have apparitions. This ghost can’t exist unless it really was…”

Lucy is deep in deliberation as her eyes flit to somewhere out of the kitchen; the skull, Lockwood realizes quickly. “If this is a type three… and it was cooperative…”

A pregnant pause fills the room, only the ticking of a faraway clock echoing about the walls. George settles into his seat with a sigh, finally picking up his utensils. Lucy, rests her hands in her lap. They all look up and at each other, waiting for a beat, before falling into a quiet supper. They were definitely going to have to see this through now.

So here Lockwood finds himself in front of the house that starts and ends it all; that houses what might just be the strangest thing to happen in his haunted life. He meets you in a flurry of strange things— through a polaroid of an open window, a ghost goose case, and then meeting the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen— before he finds himself asking:

“Would you like to come home with us?”

You nod quickly in surprise, your eyes shining in mirth and other-light. He doesn’t even need Lucy to translate that as anything but a firm ‘yes’.

A/N: Everything I touch… turns to romcoms… I am like King Midas of romcoms PLEASE.

Also! Starting a silly taglist, just somehow reach out if you’d like to be added!!

Taglist 🏷️

@tangledinlove

#portie writes fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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noramoons · 1 year

Text

and tomorrow we’ll begin anew | l.sm

pairing: lee seokmin x g/n reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, descriptions of anxiety/insecurities, (not proofread 🤡)

word count: 2k

summary: today has been a colossally bad day—luckily, your boyfriend is there to remind you that you don’t have to deal with it alone.

a/n: this is so wildly self indulgent it is not even funny…not even sure i like this piece anymore tbh but it is here! 🤭

7:17 a.m.

The morning light streaming into your bedroom is warm, basking you in the golden glow of a new day. It doesn't bring you the reassuring warmth it's meant to, however, when you wake up to see your alarm clock and realize you've slept in an extra half hour.

8:07 a.m.

Okay, you're seven minutes late to work. Fine. Whatever. That shouldn't send your entire day up in flames.

But it burns down anyway. Everything past that first hour is tinged with smoke, hanging heavy over you like a cloud of inevitable mistakes. You've nearly forgotten a deadline. Your printer stops working. One of your coworkers calls in sick and you end up having to do double the work you would normally do.

And even with all of that, the day drags—you think to yourself no less than five times throughout your shift that you're aren't sure you'll ever make it home again.

Okay, you aren't delusional enough to not realize how slightly dramatic you might be behaving—but you really can't remember a day at work worse than this in a long while. You feel utterly useless. There's no other way to put it.

4:12 p.m.

It isn't until your clock finally ticks on the last hour, a single glimmer of hope in what has been an absolute shitshow of a day, that you remember your day has really only just begun.

> s ❤️

> i'm heading over your way now! sorry i'm a little early lol

> just looking forward to seeing you :)

Oh, Jesus Christ. With the near-constant nightmare that your shift at work was, you'd almost entirely forgotten—you made dinner plans with your boyfriend to eat at your apartment tonight. You know that should excite you, relax you, even, at the thought of seeing him at the end of a long and exhausting day.

Instead, it fills you with nothing but dread.

Your relationship with Seokmin is new—still in that cautious, tip-toeing early phase of dating where you don't really quite know each other yet. You know him, sure—know his name, his phone number, some of his favorite shows and movies and songs, just the same as you know most of these facts about your regular friends. The fact that you do know what the tender, delicate sensation of his lips on yours feels like is the only thing so far that distinguishes him from most of your other casual friendships.

But that's not to say that you don't want to learn more. You do—God, you do. Seokmin is unbelievably funny and sweet (and punctual, you're delighted to learn now). So you'd offered last week for him to stop by your apartment for dinner, telling him he could let himself in with the key underneath the potted plant by your front door. Nothing incredibly complicated—just a dish you've made a million times and that you know you can't possibly screw up (and that you hope might still impress him a little). You'd bought the ingredients on your grocery run over the weekend, so all in all, it should be something you can do with your eyes closed.

Or it would be, at least—if the only thing on your mind now wasn't dropping everything you're currently holding at your front door and collapsing into your bed, ready to sleep off this ridiculously exhausting day. And if you'd been dating Seokmin for longer than you have now, you'd tell him that. Tell him that you need to reschedule your dinner date because the only thing propelling you through this last half hour of work is the thought of getting to be in a coma the minute you set foot in your apartment.

But you haven't been in this relationship for that long—and so you don't quite know how he'd react to that. Would he think you were avoiding him? Think that you were tired of him already? Those thoughts certainly aren't the truth—so you'll just have to put an Oscar-winning performance for a few hours in the hopes that he'll stick around for another (less inwardly painful) dinner date.

And it isn't Seokmin's fault by any means. Certainly not his fault that you're so anxious about the beginning of this relationship, one that seems almost too good to be true, that you've found yourself working overtime to make sure you don't scare him off the first time he sees you under stress like this.

You'll just have to make an effort to plan your next date on a day you're aren't so in your own damn head about everything.

5:03 p.m.

By the time you're finally speeding your way out the door of your office, you're already mentally rehearsing what you need to do to hurry the evening along as quickly as possible but not seem like you don't want Seokmin to be there. The lettuce for your meal has been washed already, so you won't have to worry about that, and there's still leftover rice in the fridge you can serve your entree with—all you need to do is marinate the meat for half an hour and cook. Maybe Seokmin will want to talk about a TV show he's been enjoying and you can steer him away from discussions about work, because you know you won't be able to hide your exhaustion if the conversation lingers there. You can't offer any wine tonight, even if it does pair terribly well with this beef—that will just have to be a next-date plan. If he sticks around.

You're still cycling through your well-crafted lines in your mind as you finally reach your apartment, bracing yourself as you make your way up each stair step, practically holding your breath as your reach your door and turn the doorknob—

The door shuts as you walk in.

He turns to face you. "Y/N!" Seokmin beams, grinning ecstatically like he hasn't seen you in years—that damn smile that fills you with the warmth of the sun itself.

You let go of that breath.

And it isn't all you let go of. Seeing that goddamn stupid smile of his is like the straw that breaks the camel's back—because your bag slips out of your fingers and onto the floor before you even realize it. There's tears welling up at the corners of your eyes, leaving tracks down your cheeks before you even realize you're crying.

But Seokmin realizes. He's rushing out of his seat in an instant, making his way to your side and begging you to tell him what's wrong as he leads you to the couch.

"Look, it's just...I just had a bad day," you admit as you sink into the couch, embarrassment creeping back in to your conscious mind once you feel Seokmin's thumb rubbing over your hand reassuringly. "That's all." Why are you like this? Even now, your first instinct is refusing to let him in—because what if he finally sees how you can really be, and runs away screaming in terror?

His frown deepens. "I don't think it was just a bad day. You can tell me, Y/N—please tell me. If you want to."

The urgency in his voice feels genuine—feels real, in a way that nothing else today has felt. So you do. "It's been nonstop," you tell him, laughing a little through a sniffle. "Like ever since the moment I woke up today, I've been doing something wrong. I was just exhausted when work was over, but I didn't want to cancel this date because we've been planning it for a week to accommodate both our schedules, and I...I like you, Seokmin." There it is—your last card, laid in front of him to examine if he so chooses. "And I would really, really rather not fuck this up."

A soft grin starts tugging up the corners of his lips before he moves to cup both of your cheeks in his soft hands. "I really like you too, you know," he says, laughing a little. And you laugh too—how can you not, when the sound of his voice is enough to set you so simply at ease, enough to practically erase all the earlier worries of the day? "You haven't fucked anything up. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to prioritize your day over mine—if you're having a bad one, then that's what the two of us can worry about."

Seokmin squeezes your cheeks a little, and the action makes your chest tighten with affection. "I don't want you to feel like you have to put on a performance around me, either. If you've had a bad day, you've had a bad day—and you can tell me about it. I won't put on a performance for you, either. Mostly because I've been told I'm a terrible actor," he informs you, and it pulls another light laugh from you. "And just so you know...I like you too. I like being around you, no matter what. One bad day is never going to change that."

His words are like waves cascading over the sand, washing away whatever had been written there before—but you still can't shake that last itch that refuses to subside. "But I ruined our date."

"What date?" he asks, smirking a little. "I thought we scheduled it for tomorrow. Remember?"

It takes you a moment to understand what he's saying, but when you laugh, it's real—a loud, joyous laugh that leads Seokmin to burst into giggles as well, throwing his arms around you and enveloping you in that comfort that he is. He reminds you that tomorrow will always be there—a promise that you can always try again.

9:48 p.m.

The two of you talk for hours after ordering in dinner, laughing (and crying one more time) about anything that comes to mind. Seokmin was right—you don't have to put on a performance around him to feel comfortable. The conversation feels practically never-ending, which is fine by both of you.

Seokmin makes a move to stand up and leave right before 10:00 pm. You know he's giving you an out for if you still want some time to yourself today.

You reach out a hand to stop him, to make him stay—but you don't even have to say a word before he's taking your hand and sitting right back down in his seat, grinning at your ability to have an entire conversation without words.

11.27 p.m.

By the time you're crawling into bed beside Seokmin, tucking yourself into his side, the exhaustion from your day earlier is finally, finally, catching up with you—you think you're barely conscious when he's leaning over to kiss the crown of your head and humming a soft goodnight.

But it doesn't matter how the day ends, you think. Like Seokmin had said, tomorrow will always be there too—a chance to begin anew.

a/n: thank you sm for reading! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 💛

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

©️ noramoons 2021-2023. do not translate or reupload my writing.

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mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year

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Greetings,

I love the prompts & stories you’ve been writing on this blog. May I request a story about M.ont.gomery Ga.tor c.ock vo.ring his prey, churns them up and pumps them inside F.re.ddy?

With kind regards,

Anonymous

Yes, I can absolutely do something that! I do not write sex scenes very often because...I'll be honest, I feel like I'm not great at it. But practice never hurts!

"M-M.onty, what's the meaning of this?" F.reddy asks, not sure if his eyes should be trained on the gator's face or the...thing between his legs.

"What's it look like?" M.onty asks with his usual toothy grin. His cock is standing at full length, dripping slightly. Below him, his balls are hanging heavily, the bulges of several people pushing around inside. They flex every so often, making those bulges even more details. The thick sound of bubbling comes from inside, like a boiling pit. "They played me in minigolf and lost! So that means, these chumps get to be gator sludge!"

"B-But why are you doing it in my room?" F.reddy presses. His eyes have settled on the gator's cock, almost mesmerized as he watches the robot's junk systematically processing all that live meat.

"Because..." M.onty takes a step forward, slurping along his teeth. "...these little guys can't handle me when I'm like this. But churning chumps gets me worked up...and I ran out of condoms!"

The realization of what's about to happen hits F.reddy a bit too late. M.onty is on him in a second, pushing them both down onto his couch, the gator all but pinning him. F.reddy can feel his servos growing hotter as he feels the heavy weight of the gator's sack on his legs and that thick cock grinding slightly against him. It doesn't go any further until F.reddy says "If...this is what you need, M.onty."

That was all the gator needed to plow his entire length into F.reddy's ass, working out a deep moan from both of them. M.onty is plowing into F.reddy with low grunts and groans, while the bear below him moans out each time he feels the entire length push into him.

F.reddy can also feel M.onty's bloated balls working hard, still resting on his legs and sloshing loudly with every thrust. They're flexing harder now, squeezing everyone inside tightly with each thrust of M.onty's hips. They're getting incredibly warm, almost like a furnace, as they process all the live meat inside.

When the crunches start, M.onty groans loudly again. "All those chumps...nngh...not even worth being my biofuel, right, F.red? Just...a big...load...!" The gator growls as his nuts continue to break everything down, the softening bodies of the humans breaking more and more with each flex, being reduced into thick gator cum.

F.reddy can't even form the words, a warbling moan the only thing that comes from his voice box. His own cock gets to rub against M.onty's stomach every time they gator thrusts into him, and it makes the bear try to grind against him every chance he gets. They can't hear the sound of any of the people in the gator's nuts anymore, just the sound of their own panting and moaning.

Finally, when F.reddy feels like he's about to blow his load, M.onty thrusts his entire length into the bear's ass. "Here they come!" M.onty throws his head back with a load roar as his throbbing cock begins to fire like a hose. Gallons of cum shoot out of him and F.reddy can feel it knocking around in his guts. As the gator's nuts shrink down, the bear's belly stretches out, filling quickly with what remains of a group of humans.

F.reddy barely even noticed he blew his own load with the immense stimulation rocketing through his head, nearly forcing a software reboot. He goes limp when he feels the flow inside of him stop, and that's when he sees the cum splattered on M.onty's stomach and chest from his own load. It was nothing compared to what the gator had prepared, though.

M.onty pants heavily, slowly pulling himself out of the bear. He grabs a stray F.reddy plush to lazily clean himself off. "There...chumps like that serve better as your fuel, don't they? Not even worth adding to my battery." M.onty chuckles as he gets up, tossing the now messy toy at F.reddy. The bear catches it, but it's clear he's still trying to process what happened. "Make sure you thank me for that when your processer stops lagging!" M.onty cackles as he heads out of the bear's dressing room. F.reddy might be the face of the business...but M.onty is the one in charge. And he loves to prove it.

#v.ore #male vore #m/m vore #mlm vore #gay vore #vore story #cock vore #digestion #fatal vore #fnafvore #montgomerygatorvore #freddykruegervore #ask

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soccer-love · 2 years

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It's the anon that ask would you write a lea Schuller one here is my request maybe reader left to join Wolfsburg and lea stopped talking to her and now they are coming up against each other and lea refused to shake readers hand and they get into a pushing match after reader made a tackle on resder at end of game lea and resder alogised and ask reader out and kisses her

Why did you leave?

Lea Schüller x reader

Lea couldn't remember what happened.

She wasn't even sure if anything happened?

She just remembered that suddenly and without any warning, your couch announce that you ended your contract and would leave to Wolfsburg.

And the day you left, when she wanted to say goodbye and she walked down the street to your apartment, she saw your black car pulling out of the driveway and driving away.

At that moment, she felt something die inside her.

Your old team mates wondered why you left, of curse Wolfsburg was one of the best German clubs, probably one of the best in Europe, but they knew that you loved Munich.

That you loved your team.

But maybe, everything was just an illusion.

Maybe you didn't love it as much, as they thought you did.

Days passed by and turned into weeks, weeks into months.

And before she knew, one year had past.

One birthday, one Christmas, one season of soccer, had passed by without you.

Even the European women’s championship, passed without you, because of an injury you got shortly after leaving to Wolfsburg.

And Lea felt herself moving on, she could fall asleep at night, without asking herself what you were probably doing in that moment, she could walk past your favorite coffee shop, without asking herself if you’d still love Latte with Oatmilk and one cube of sugar. She could run through the Olympic Park, without having to remember the times you sat there, daydreaming about your future with her.

She moved on.

But sometimes, she had moments where she missed you so much, it felt like someone stopped her heart with a knife. And then she looked back at the pictures, she had still saved on her phone.

Memories of the things you did together. Memories of you.

And then almost one year and three months, after you left, she heart the news.

Bayern was going to play a friendly against Wolfsburg in less than two weeks.

“Finally, I really want to see Y/N again.” Laura cheered as they talked about the upcoming game in the looker room after practice.

“Yeah me too, I haven't seen her in like four months.” Lina agreed, not noticing Leas confused look.

“How do you mean that?”

“What?” Lina asked, turning around to face Lea.

“That you haven't seen her in four months.”

“Like that I last saw her, four moths ago when I visited her in Wolfsburg.” Lina answers, completely confused.

“Wait she....she still talks with you?” Lea asks, almost the whole team stopped with what they were doing, confuse by Leas question.

“Yeah, she's still talking with a lot of us.” Sarah cuts in and then she realizes what was going on. “Wait she doesn't talk to you anymore?”

“She stopped the day she left.” Lea whispers, tears forming in her eyes.

The first one to walk over and pull her into a hug, was Klara, because she exactly knew how much the forward, liked you.

She let Lea, hold onto her, crying on her shoulder, about the fact, that you continued to talk to everyone.

Everyone except her.

Slowly, the other team mates came closer and it turned into a big group hug.

Everyone could feel the pain that came from the normally so strong forward.

------

The match, was hold in Wolfsburg, but without viewers.

Mostly because it's only a small game, what they want to use to analyze what the players can do better during the games.

Lea thought she would feel sad, when she saw you but she wasn't.

She felt absolutely nothing.

Not even when she saw you joking around with your new team mates during warm up.

And when both teams assembled in the tunnel, ready to walk out for the game and she stands next to you, only separated by a couple of meters of air, she fels nothing.

She just stares at the back of Caro’s head in front of her.

When they walk out, she shakes everybody's hand, but when it’s your turn, she just walks past you, ignoring the disappointed look on your face.

During the first half of the game, you barely have any contact with her, since she was a forward and you're a defender.

In the 58 Minute, the Bayern players managed to get trough the defenders and Lina Magull scores a goal.

Only seven minutes later, Ewa Pajor managed to score a goal for Wolfsburg.

After the normal time is up they give five minutes extra time.

One minute is left as the Bayern players again get passt the defenders, well past everyone but one.

Lea got a perfect pass from Caro and run towards the box and was about to shoot the ball, when Y/N run towards her.

Y/N kicked the ball away, but accidentally hit Leas foot, forcing her to trip over Y/N.

“Are you insane?” Lea shouts, suddenly feeling anger burning inside of her.

“You could have fucking inured me.” Lea adds, getting up within seconds and shooting a angry look at Y/N.

“Sorry I-”

“Stop fucking apologizing.” Lea cut Y/N off, the defender tried to walk closer to Lea, asking her to calm her down.

Lea grabbed Y/N by her shoulders and pushed her away, suddenly not just being angry about the foul, but about everything that happened in the last year.

Or rather everything that didn't happened.

Y/N was about to fight back, when she suddenly felt two arms around her body.

Poppi knew the young defender longe enough to know that it would be better for both, Lea and Y/N, to hold her back.

Obi and Linda apparently had the same idea, both of them holding Lea back from killing Y/N.

The referee, gave Y/N a red card for the foul, which means she had to leave the pitch.

And of curse they also noticed Lea pushing Y/N away, so they gave her a yellow card too.

“Fuck you.” Y/N mutters as she leaves the pitch.

The Bayern team gets a box kick but they don't score another goal before the game finishes.

“What was up with you, out there?” Obi asks as she gets to Lea, confused by Leas behavior when she got fouled.

“Just seeing her, makes me wanna hit her.” Lea mutters under her breath.

“Why? What happened between you two?”

Lea stops her walk towards the locker room, turning towards her best friend.

“She left, without saying why, without saying goodbye. But apparently she continued talking to everyone, except me. She just cut me out of her live.” Lea says, her voice turning from angry into sadness.

“That sucks.” Obi gives her a soft hug before pulling away.

“Lets get chanced.” They separate at the locker rooms, Lea going with the other Bayern players. Obi following her team mates from Wolfsburg.

Y/N was the first one to leave the locker room again, but she just waited around the corner, keeping an eye at the door to the locker room of the other team, hoping to see Lea.

She watched many of the players coming out, but not Lea.

One of the last one to come out, was Giulia and she noticed Y/N.

“She’s still in there, the only one left.” she said , looking at the door to the locker room before looking back at Y/N. “You should talk to her.”

After Giulia went away, Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

No one answered.

“Lea?” Y/N asks as she opens the door.

The sound of her name coming from you, something she missed so much, forced Lea to look up.

Her eyes meet yours and suddenly, after being calm for so many minutes, she felt all of her feelings rushing back trough her body.

Anger, disappointment, fear but also love.

“Are..are you okay?” It was the first thing that came to your mind that you could say without sounding like an asshole.

But she still got it wrong.

“You are an ass, Y/N Y/L/N.” she stood up, walking towards you and before you could do anything she slapped the younger girl across the face.

“You come her, after months, no after a year of not talking to me and all you do is asking me if I’m okay, after you almost injured me. So no I’m not okay.” Lea shouted, hitting Y/N with her fist on the shoulder, pushing her back against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered, pulling Lea against her, knowing that this was one of the best ways to calm her down.

“No, no.” Lea fights back, trying to get away from Y/N, tears rushing down her face.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” Lea repeated these words, over and over again.

But at the same time, she feelt herself, stopping to fight back against Y/N, letting the defender pull her into her arms as they sink onto the floor.

“I hate you.” Lea whispers, her crying slowly stopsing.

“Why the hell did you leave?” she looked up, again meeting Y/N eyes.

“I can't-”

“No, don't give me some stupid excuse. You just, you left without saying anything. And then one year later, I hear that you still talk to anyone except me. I thought we were friends, so don't give me some stupid excuse, just tell me.”

“Because I love you.” Y/N said without thinking, but it was the truth.

“I was...no I’am still so in love with you and I...I just couldn't live with that, it hurt me so much to se you everyday, to be friends with you and knowing that you would never be mine. But when I left, it just hurt so much more.” The defender explained, her hand on Leas shoulder, their faces only inches apart.

“God you are such an idiot.” Lea said, her hand finding Y/N neck. “Because I love you so fucking much and you never noticed.”

Y/N didn't know what to do, she just sat there, Lea wrapped in her arms, completely caught off guard by the fact that Lea loves her too.

She loves her too.

“Just kiss me!” Lea demanded, pulling her former teammate against her, into a soft kiss.

Lea knew that this kiss wouldn't just magically rebuild the relationship that they had, wouldn't set there timer back, to the moments a year ago when everything was still good the way it was.

But she felt something heal inside of her, like someone softly put a plaster over the wounds in her heart.

“Why are we so dump?” Y/N whispers, leaning her forehead against Leas.

“Never leave me again, okay? I wouldn't survive it to loose you again.”

“You won't, I promise. I swear.”

#lea schüller #dfbfrauenteam #fc bayern frauen #vflwolfsburgfrauen #lina magull #giulia gwinn #alexpopp #lenaoberdorf #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #lea schüller x reader #lea schuller

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kaminocasey · 2 years

Text

Late Night Feelings Part 2: Late Night Talking

Summary: You and Crosshair finally hash it out.

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; SMUT, Oral (F receiving), p in v, feelings, brief sub!Crosshair, light spitting

WC: 3.2K (Twice as long as the first part lol oops)

A/N: I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME A MONTH AND A HALF TO DO THIS!!! I wasn't going to post before the end of the year but I figure I may as well.

Part One | Part Two

Finally back in space, you’re on watch first after your first mission. Hunter offers to take the first watch but you need space from Crosshair. He not only pissed you off during the mission today, he embarrassed you. Purposely.

“Careful with that wrist, Crosshair.” You tease as you trek through overgrown brush on a planet in the outer rim, looking for separatist droids.

“Why should I be? If I get hurt again, you can come check on me in the middle of the night again.” He sneers, inserting a toothpick in between his lips.

Your stomach drops as all the other guys clearly become confused.

“What do you mean by that?” Tech asks, looking between you and Crosshair.

Echo looks over at you, but doesn’t say anything. He has his helmet on, so you can only assume his facial expression reads something like “Oh really, now?”. Only Echo is aware of your feelings for the sniper. Probably Hunter too, because that man catches on to everything. But, Wrecker and Tech probably have no idea and you’d like to keep it that way.

You glare at Crosshair and move away from him. Feeling all the men’s eyes on you, you start walking ahead of the group, needing to get away from Crosshair before you decide to bury his body underneath all of these plants.

“Are you okay?” Hunter appears next to you, even though you told him to go get some sleep.

“Just embarrassed.” You shrug, staring out the windows at the hyperspace lights that rush by.

He sits in the copilot seat and grabs the armrest to turn your seat to face him. Bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on your arms, you look at him.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re allowed to have feelings.” He smiles.

Oh, that’s great, you think to yourself.

“So, you heard us last night?” You guess.

“I appreciate you trying to stay quiet.” He chuckles. “But yes.”

As you run your hands down your face, Hunter pats you on the knee. You lean back in the seat and face forward again for a moment. Rolling your head to the side to look at him rather sadly, you begin to realize that Crosshair knows the effect that he has on you and he uses it to his advantage way too often.

Not anymore, though. You’re done with him. There’s clearly no getting through to Crosshair. He will never change.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Hunter asks you, quietly.

You smile, appreciatively. “No, that’s alright. Thanks, though.”

He nods and looks out the window, leaving you to your thoughts.

After a few weeks, things start to go back to relatively normal. You and Crosshair mostly just ignore each other and only speak if you absolutely have to during a mission.

“You know, you’re staring at her again.” Hunter murmurs to his silver-haired brother, who’s been leaning the hatch doorway, watching you for the last thirty minutes as you and Wrecker playfully spar in the grassy area.

“No, I’m not.” Crosshair mumbles, turning in to go back to the cockpit.

Hunter stops him. “Just go talk to her.”

“Don’t you care about her?” Echo chimes in.

Crosshair removes himself from Hunter’s grasp and glares at his brothers. “Don’t any of you know how to mind your own business?”

It was almost touching how much they cared for you. Crosshair doesn’t know why exactly he finds it so difficult to just admit he truly cares for you… How beautiful he finds you… How much he loves watching you smile… How much he wants to see you every single day. He wishes he could make you smile more. Maker, he really was an asshole, wasn’t he?

“What do you think?” Tech replies from his workbench.

Crosshair grumbles, flicks his toothpick at Hunter, and starts to walk back toward the bunks. You look up just in time to see him pass by and your heart clenches.

Ever since you walked away from him two weeks ago, it’s taken everything in your power to not go crawling back into his bunk.You definitely don’t want to give him the satisfaction since he’s probably counting on you caving.

You often find your mind wandering to how good his hands felt on our skin and how perfect his lips melded with yours. When you touch yourself at night, you remember how your warmth had brushed up against his length which made you both moan with need. You’ll never forget the sound of his low moans that he made just for you. You think of the possibility of his mouth between your thighs, eventually. You think of how everytime Crosshair exits the fresher, shirtless, towel low on his waist, revealing his tattoos, your mouth practically waters.

It’s not just a sexual need that you have for the sniper, though. He genuinely makes you laugh. His banter and competitions with Wrecker brings you joy. His kindness that he secretly shows Echo makes your heart melt. The way that he talks about Tech knowing things makes you happy and the genuine respect that he has for Hunter lets you know he isn’t all big and bad like he wants people to believe. Crosshair is good. He just makes everything difficult for no reason.

You snap back to reality as Wrecker pins you again, teasing you about how you’ll possibly get him one day. You don’t bother to tell him that your mind was elsewhere as you walk toward the steps of the Marauder, chiding yourself for the thoughts you seem to be unable to let go of. You have to keep your guard up around Crosshair. You can’t give into him, no matter how badly you want to. You’re still angry with him for that night and for embarrassing you. He clearly has no desire to talk about his feelings… if he even has any, that is.

That night, as you all sit around the fire that Wrecker made, you listen to the guys tell you all about the battles and missions they’ve been on and you realize how strange it is to hear about their lives before you.

You’re grinning at Echo as he tells you all about the mischief that he and his “twin” Fives used to get into, back in the GAR. When you glance at Crosshair, he’s watching you closely. You think if you look at him, maybe he’ll look away. But he doesn’t. He holds your gaze as he stares into your eyes from across the fire and you can’t help but be mesmerized by the flames dancing in his golden brown eyes. He smiles ever so slightly and you think maybe you’re imagining it until he nods toward the Marauder, indicating he wants you to meet him there. You stare at him for a moment, knowing he only wants one thing from you. Now, it’s more evident than ever, right?

His expression softens as if to say “please” as he gets up to walk away. Unable to tear your eyes off of him, you watch him walk back the entire way.

“Go.” Echo nudges your leg, encouragingly.

With a deciding sigh, you get up and silently follow behind.

A part of you hopes that as soon as you walk into the ship, he slams you against the wall and has his way with you. Another part of you hopes that he finally apologizes and just tells you how he feels.

When you walk up into the dark cockpit, Crosshair is waiting there for you, illuminated by the glow of the distant fire and whatever buttons are lit up in the ship. You aren’t sure what to say, so you wait for him to say something first.

“I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not very… forthcoming about my thoughts or feelings.” He starts. “But I…”

You can tell he’s really struggling as you continue to wait patiently with soft eyes.

“I just…” He tries.

You walk toward him and he keeps his eyes trained on you as he looks down at you. Heat courses through your veins under his stare like always. It isn’t fair how badly you need him.

“Keep going.” You slide your hands around his waist and he sighs under your touch, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have.

“I hurt you.” He whispers. “I hurt you and I’m sorry.” “Yes, you did.” You whisper back.

“I won’t do it again.” He promises.

As you slide your hands up his chest, he backs you up against the wall, towering over you with an almost nervous expression.

“I want to believe you.” You feel a sad smile tug at your lips.

“Then believe me.” He leans in close, his forehead resting against yours.

You really want to, but Crosshair has a meanstreak. You know it’s not going to end just for you.

“Prove to me you mean it.” You lean toward his lips slightly so that they ghost across his.

He smirks slightly before kneeling down before you. You have to admit, you’re rather surprised. It had to be difficult for him to let his guard down with you this much.

Your eyes settle on him as he looks up at you from the steel floor, immediately grinning. His hands are in his lap and his back is straight. You’ve never seen a man so submissive.

As you trace your hand down his cheek, tilting his chin up toward you, he hums in pleasure at the touch.

Leaning down closely, your smirk never leaving your face, you whisper. “Beg.”

“Please forgive me.” He whispers, his eyes wide.

You have to admit, the man looks absolutely beautiful on his knees. The sight of him before you, at your mercy, is something you didn’t know you needed.

“I think you can do better than that, love.” You grin.

For once, the sniper doesn’t roll his eyes. He just scoots closer to you, sliding his hands up your thighs until he takes your hands, holding them in his as he kisses them.

“Please, cyare… I’m so sorry for everything. I’ll try to be more… communicative from now on.” He promises you.

You lean down and kiss him. “Good boy.”

He lets out a soft groan and you try to hold in your surprise. All Crosshair needs is to be taken care of. You can do that.

You pull him up to his feet and guide him back to the bunks. He wraps his arms around you gently, pulling you back against him. The look between the two of you is intense and yet somehow soft. Hopefully, he knows that he’s all you want.

Leaning in to kiss you again, he grips the fabric of your shirt tightly, clearly holding back.

“Take off your clothes, Cross.” You whisper.

He pulls away to do as he’s told and you can’t help but watch in awe, how willing he is for you, and only for you. The thought sends arousal deep into your core as you watch him take each piece of clothing off until he’s completely naked and vulnerable before you. Guiding him to your bottom bunk, you murmur to him. “Lay back.”

Again, he listens to you and you can’t help but smile as you kneel before him on the bunk.

“Aren’t you going to take off yours?” He asks you, softly.

“Do you want me to?” You reply.

“Yes, please.” He murmurs.

You smile and quickly take off your clothes, letting them fall with his on the floor. Crosshair stares at you with absolute need.

“You’re beautiful.” He sits up to kiss you, as if unable to help himself.

Kissing him was already starting to feel addictive, like you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough. His hands roam your body as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch you more. He settles on your waist.

“Want to taste you…” He whispers against your lips.

“You are tasting me.” You laugh.

He hums, sliding his teasing fingers down toward your core. “I meant somewhere else.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks burn and you allow him to help you lean back. “I was going to take care of you.”

“Let me take care of you first.” He kisses your inner thigh as he settles down between your thighs.

Immediately, your lips part, unable to look away at the perfect man peppering your thighs with kisses and bites. When he starts to suck a mark onto your thigh, you gasp and then let out a soft whimper.

Crosshair starts to make his way closer to your warmth and it takes everything in you not to wrap your thighs around his head to bring him closer. He pushes your thighs back and starts to lick a stripe up your wet folds. Your back arches immediately, not even realizing how touch starved you yourself have been. Crosshair starts sucking on your clit and almost immediately, you feel your release coming way too soon. It’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with anyone. You just hope that Crosshair doesn’t mind.

“Maker, your mouth feels so fucking good.” You pant, reaching your hand down to his hair and gripping, causing him to let out a groan that vibrates throughout your body.

“You taste so fucking good.” He pushes your thighs back further and starts to insert a finger into your pussy. “So tight for me.”

The whimper you let out is absolutely pathetic, making him smirk up at you as he starts thrusting his finger into you. You clench around him and he spits onto your clit, starting to suck again.

Your release hits you like a train, making you come undone around Crosshair’s mouth and fingers, moaning so loudly you’re absolutely sure the others can probably hear you but you can’t bring yourself to care even a little bit.

“I knew… you’d have… an oral fixation.” You tease him, panting.

“What makes you say that?” He chuckles, resting his cheek on your thigh, looking up at you.

“The toothpicks.” You smirk.

He rolls his eyes and you can’t help but grin. “I think it’s more of a you fixation.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining… that was… wow.” Your heart rate finally slows down.

He sits up a bit and you see just how turned on he was from making you cum for him. Arousal pools deep in your stomach all over again.

“See something you want?” He teases.

You nod and sit up on your knees, wrapping your hand around his length. He lets out a sharp gasp followed by a soft groan. Smirking to yourself, you push him onto his back and he watches you with lustful eyes, mixed with something else. You’re not sure what, yet though. Crosshair’s golden brown eyes stay trained on you as you straddle him.

“I like when you watch me.” You admit.

“You notice when I watch you?” He glides his hands up your body, teasing your breasts.

You nod. “Even when we fight or argue, I know I’m safe because you never take your eyes off of me.”

You sink down onto his hardened cock, unable to help the moan that escapes your lips.

He gasps and then promises. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

You believe him.

Without a warning, Crosshair flips you over so that you’re on your back. You look up at him, startled.

“Need you now…” He starts thrusting into you slowly at first, taking his time dragging his cock in and out of your soaked warmth.

Gripping his shoulders while moaning, you think it can’t get better than this. Until he pushes one of your legs up and starts hitting deeper inside of you, so perfectly, you’re sure you’re going to come again.

“Maker, I can feel you clenching…” He groans before crushing his lips against yours again.

“Sorry.” You pant against his lips.

“Don’t be. You fit so perfectly around my cock, mesh’la.” He purrs, thrusting quicker into you.

“Do I?” You grin up at him.

He pulls you up so you’re seated in his lap, rutting into you so that you’re bouncing on his cock. All you can do is wish to the maker that this man wants you like this forever because now that you’ve had him, you don’t think you can live without him.

“Fuck yes, you do.” He moans, groping your breast tightly.

His other arm brings you even tighter against him and you wrap your arms around his neck, fisting his hair tightly. His pace quickens and you can tell he’s close. So are you.

“So… good…” You whine, breathlessly, closer to your edge again. “Want you… all the time.”

He bounces you over his length, mercilessly, slamming you down as if he can’t get enough of your pussy. Which is fair, because you don’t think you can get enough of his cock. It makes sense that he knows exactly what you need and how you need it.

“Oh… Cross… I’m gonna-” You moan against his neck, digging your nails into his skin.

“Kriff-” He groans, his hips stuttering as he empties himself into you at the same time that you’re thrown over the edge of your orgasm, moaning his name so perfectly.

You smile to yourself softly, not letting him go. He finally pulls away slightly to look at you and you trace his cheekbones to his jawline, unable to stop touching him. His eyes flutter slightly and he eases the both of you down to a lying position so he can pull the cover up over you.

“I promise to be… better about talking about my feelings for you.” He whispers, still panting slightly.

“You have feelings for me.” You grin, unable to tear your eyes off of his.

He rolls his eyes, amused. “Obviously.”

You kiss him again, trailing your fingers up and down his back, causing him to relax into your touch before letting sleep consume both of you. It’s the best sleep you’ve ever gotten.

When you wake up the next morning, you hear Wrecker’s loud voice, clearly surprised by finding the two of you under a cover together and your clothes on the ground.

“Get out, Wrecker.” Crosshair sits up with his elbow resting on his knee, smirking down at you.

He looks even more beautiful in the morning, you realize for the first time, somehow. Did he always glow like this? Or was it just because of last night’s endeavors?

“Did you know about that?” Wrecker asks Echo and Hunter.

Echo throws you a wink before going back to the cockpit. Hunter just smirks and Tech starts to question Hunter on “workplace relations” which makes you laugh.

You look up at Crosshair, waiting for him to get upset or show any signs of discomfort. But he doesn’t. He just leans down and kisses you, sweetly.

“I like waking up next to you just as much as I really like being the cause of your bedhead.” Crosshair teases you.

“Shut up.” You push him away with a laugh and quickly run to the fresher while no one is looking, but mostly trying to hide your embarrassment.

When Crosshair follows you to the fresher, locking the door behind you, he starts the shower and backs you into it to prove to you just how much he likes waking up next to you. This is something you can definitely get used to.

TAGS: @brynhildrmimi @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @moonstrider9904

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x you #Crosshair x you #Crosshair x reader #bad batch

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littlemissomega · 2 years

Text

Cravings

Natasha romanoff! x pregnant!reader

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, strap on, hypersensitive, nipple play, aftercare, pet names, Russian pet names

Summary: Y/N wakes up with intense pregnancy cravings

Masterlist

"'Tasha?" Y/N whispers.

Natasha squints at the clock in the dark room. 2:37 a.m. Natasha knows there's only two reasons her very pregnant wife would make her up this early; she's hungry, or horny.

"Yes, Девочка (Babygirl)?"

"We reallyyyyy need some persimmons right now, 'Tasha,"

Natasha smiles at her in the dark.

"You need them?" Natasha asks.

"Uh huh! Please, 'Tasha! I've literally been having dreams about them!"

Pregancy has been really hard on Y/N. Between the intense morning sickness, back pain, and mood swings, she hasn't been able to do much of anything. Natasha has tried to do everything she can to help her, but its been hard on both of them

"Okay, luvie, I'll get you and baby some persimmons," Natasha chuckles, kissing Y/N on the nose before dragging herself out of bed.

"Ooo and some pickles! The Slovakian ones!" Y/N calls from bed.

"As you wish," Natasha smiles.

Y/N props herself up against the pillows happily as she waits for Natasha to return. Her hands subconsciously go to her growing belly.

Natashs comes back in a few moments later carying a bowl full of sliced persimons and pickles. She plops back down on the bed and hands yn the bowl and a fork.

"Here you go, my luv,"

"Thank you, 'tasha," she smiles.

Natasha rests her hands on her wife's bump as Y/N eats. Natasha realizes Y/N is wearing nothing but one of Natasha us oversized t shirts.

Shes done that a lot throughout her pregancy. Between her growing bump and swelling breasts, none of her clothes fit anymore. And her skin as been almost hypersensitive, so underwear isn't very comfortable either.

Its driven Natasha absolutely fertile to come home from work to find her wife cooking or sleeping in nothing but one of her shirts. It's taken all of her self restraint not to bend her over the counter and fuck her silly every day.

Natasha snaps out of her thinking as yn tucks her sleeve.

"You know what else I really need?" Yn whispers.

Thats odd. Yn usually says 'we' when taking about the cravings she and the baby has.

"What, Девочка?"

"The blue strap with the pink tip! Please 'tasha, want it so bad!" Y/N whimpers.

Natasha is taken aback by the request despite how often this happens. Pregnancy hormones have also made Y/N extra horny.

"It's late, button, and you need your rest! We should-" Natasha starts gently.

"No! Mommy I need it so so bad! I'm so fucking wet, Mommy! Look!"

Y/N parts her legs and grabs Natasha as hand, putting it on her most sensitive parts. She whimper at how cold Natasha is hand is.

Natsha gasps at how wet her wife is. She must be dripping all over the sheets.

"Awww my poor baby," Natasha croons.

"Please, Mommy! Need you do bad!"

"Okay, button, shhh," Natasha whispers, stroking her throbbing clit.

She lets out a loud moan from the stimulation. Natasha could blow on her clit and make her cum.

"Natasha!" She whines as Nat moves her hand away.

"Nu uh uh! That's not my name, silly girl," Natasha responds as she reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out the strap Y/N asked for, pulling it on.

"I'm sorry, Mommy! Just need you so bad!" Y/N whimpers.

"I know, button," Natasha chuckles, "just lay back and let Mommy take care of you,"

Natasha eases her onto her back and pushes her shirt up to her chin.

"F-fuck," yn moans as Natasha tweaks her sensitive nipples, "Mommy!"

"I know, Девочка. You're so fucking sensitive,"

Natasha starts grinding the tip of her strap against Y/N's clit, causing her to jolt forward and grab her arm.

"M-mommy, please!"

Natasha simply hums at her and lines her strap up with her dripping entrance. Y/N's nails dig into her arm as her strap slides in.

Every one of Y/N's nerves are on fire and warmth fills her belly. Natasha starts slowly and deeply thrusting into her, causing her climax to build even faster.

"Gonna cum!" Y/N moans.

"I know, button. Cum for Mommy," Natasha whispers, her fingers continues to rub Y/N's sensitive clit.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" Y/N babbles as she tips off the edge.

Y/N squirts everywhere as her climax takes her over. Natasha gently works her through it, whispering how perfect and beautiful she is.

"Умница (good girl)," Natasha croons, pulling out.

Natasha gently picks her wife up and carries her to the bathroom, flipping on the tub facet. The tub fills with warm water as Natasha gently pulls off yns shirt. Natasha finishes undressing herself and puts her wife in the tub; sliding in behind her. The warm water stings Y/N's sensitive skin and she moans.

"You were so perfect, my luv," Natasha whispers in her ear, "I love you so much,"

"I love you too, Natty," yn smiles, "Oh!" She jolts forward a little.

"what? What's wromg?" Natasha as, worried.

"Feel this," Y/N smiles, grabbing Nat's hand and placing it on her stomach.

Natasha smiles as she feels the baby kick against her hand. Y/n looks over her shoulder and giggles at her.

"I'm so excited!"

"Me too," Natasha smiles, "you're gonna be such a good mom, Девочка,"

"You are too,"

Masterlist

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

#Smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #mommy!natasha #mommy!natasha smut #mommy kink #pregnancy kink #natasha romanoff x pregnant!reader smut #littlemissomega #smut

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steam-junk · 1 year

Note

LOVINGLY REQUESTS any sort of reader x momo (stray) or zbaltazar <3

Momo + Zbaltazar x human!reader

gender unspecified

romantic

type: headcanons

warnings: none

notes: This was pretty vague, but I wanted the opportunity to write for both of these fellows, since I LOVE Momo, and Zbal does NOT get enough love. I also think this is kinda short? I don't know the standards sorry---

Momo:

He's absolutely enamored by you!

A human? In the Slums?? How did you survive? What do you remember? Does it hurt? Are you healthy? Are you okay???

'Are you okay?'

He doesn't know where exactly that question came from. It was a little more than 'how is your health' or 'are you injured'.

He was asking about you.

Imagine the way a loyal dog will trail its closest human friend with loving eyes, just daring anyone to try something a little too bold.

Now---imagine Momo in its place.

Protects you! From! Everything!

He is a very nervous and anxious man, so of course he is very worried about you in particular.

No metal plating to protect your fragile form? No ability to reboot, should something go wrong? No one else like you...

So, he makes it his job to show you everything in the slums, where to stay away from, how to fight zurks, if it really came to it.

He was just doing his job as a friend! ...So, why does he feel so different around you?

He finds himself smiling more... caring less. You made him feel a different way.

From all the human books he took up reading, be it out of curiosity or boredom, he recognized this feeling.

It was love!

Love... The word felt weird coming through his speakers. He was excited, but so very scared! What if you didn't feel the same way? What if you hated him? What if he made you uncomfortable, and you didn't want to be friends with him anymore? What then? What if...

What if, he then asked himself, what if all this worrying was over nothing. What if you did feel the same way?

He was, surprisingly, the one who confessed. You admitted that you, too, had feelings for him. Things took their own way from there.

He likes to hold you at night. Whenever he's not busy, he'll grab you and drag you to whatever surface is closest---couch, bed, chair, you name it---and just hold you.

He doesn't need sleep, but he still loves to lah with you.

His hugs are cold in the same way that a breeze is cold. Cold, yes, but still, it envelops you with all the warmth you could ever hope for.

He's so much more than you ever could have hoped for... <3

Zbaltazar:

He's amazed.

Like, nobody even knew you were there, living under Midtown.

Until you crawled up from beneath the roots and claimed you were human.

Which, well, you were. But it was unbelievable! Almost impossible!

You were a living miracle!

Of course, through Zbaltazar's logical mind, there was a different onslaught of questions. Like: What's your name? Is there anyone else down there? How long were you down there? Are you sick?

Volunteered to watch over you for a few days as you get your bearings.

Living as the last piece of humanity amidst robots was... depressing, to say the least.

But you began to see humanity in them, as well. You even recognized some of your own traditions that had been passed down from generation to generation, still living as bits and pieces in these nearly-human machines.

You fell in love with them. All of them, you realized. Not the love between lovers, but the love between humans nonetheless. The love between the trees and the dirt, the love between the sun and the clouds.

And then you fell in love with Him. Zbaltazar. Like the love between the Sun and the Moon.

He was so kind, and gentle, and wise.

He loved having someone around to match his wits.

You two would often go back and forth, but it was all in good spirit.

He began to look forward to seeing you, and you notice that his time away from you became less and less.

He would make time for you, as his way of showing he cared.

Then, he, your Sun, fell in love as well.

He knew, it just had to be it. What else could it be?

He invited you over all the time, so how could this be different?

But the way he looked at you, it was a little worrying. Not in a scary way, no, you knew he would never hurt you.

He just seemed so serious.

He explained his feelings to you. He kept a distance, not wanting to intrude on your space, or make you uncomfortable. He was incredibly respectful about the whole thing, not wanting to drive you away from him. Even if you didn't reciprocate, after all, he still valued your guys' friendship.

But, of course, you reciprocated.

🚨HAND HOLDING! HAND HOLDING!🚨

100% the kind of man who will gently take your hand no matter what he's doing, and not even make a big deal about it.

Sometimes he'll cup your face softly and pull you into a slow, sweet embrace.

You, in response, will lean forward and press a kiss onto the glass plating of his screen.

He loves you so dearly, and would give the world for you. Really, he would.

!Comments, reblogs, notes appreciated. Please do not repost or translate without my permission!

#stray momo x reader #momo x reader #momo #momo x reader stray #momo x you #stray momo #momo stray #stray zbaltazar x reader #zbaltazar x reader #zbaltazar #zbaltazar x reader stray #zbaltazar x you #stray zbaltazar #zbaltazar stray #x reader #reader insert #x you

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emeraldtied · 2 months

Text

➤ Take A Look | Accepting (slowly)

↳ @familylightfox asked: send DIFFERENT for a scene from my muse's past that they feel changed their outlook / personality / etc, for the better or worse

{➹} – IT WAS A LONG silence, far from comfortable. Marred by the glowering glare that was currently being aimed at him, by his little brother no less. The fox was furious, those baby blue eyes alight with anger the hedgehog had never seen before. And not for a single moment did Sonic blame them for it.

He still shifted underneath it, uncertain of what to do and moreso when it came to what to say. But he had to say something, he had to try to explain himself, to make things right. No matter how dim his hope was for that to happen. "Tails..."

"Miles." The fox's voice was savage, cut across so harshly that it took the hedgehog aback for a moment. And it hurt, Sonic would admit that. It was true then, the fox had abandoned the name the hero had given him. "I'm not a kid anymore, don't treat me like one."

"I didn't..." Sonic started but trailed off, his own voice sounded feeble for a moment. He stopped, took a breath, and tried again with more conviction. "Knux told me how hard you took everything...an' I know we didn't have the best...well, anything, right before everything happened..."

Everything. Rail Canyon. His capture, what Miles and Knuckles had took as the hedgehog's death. Chaos knew there were still days Sonic wished that had been the case. Even now, a few months later, fully healed, he was far from alright and it showed in the way he held himself. Whether Miles noticed or simply didn't care, no one could tell.

The fox only sneered, nearly spat in the hero's direction as his eyes narrowed. "That's how you'd put it? Funny, because I remember finding out the person I idolized the most in the world, the person who saved me, someone I considered a brother telling me he wanted nothing to do with me. Who turned around and insulted me in everyway he could when he thought I'd never know about it. Then said it all to my face."

The hedgehog flinched as if he had been hit, but it didn't take the fox long to realize that they weren't denying anything either. In truth, the hero had no idea what he was supposed to say. How the hell was he supposed to explain to the fox that he had only said those things to save them? To get them the hell out of Robotnik's base before the madman could take the fox and echidna hostage too?

...How could he rightfully say he didn't mean all of that when, at that moment, he just might of?

He regretted it, he truely did, but Sonic knew that wasn't enough. That maybe it never would be. "Listen, I know I was an ass but...I didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did!" Miles snapped, so viciously that the hero had to take a step back when the fox advanced forwards. Their hands were balled into tight fists. The fox wasn't crying, but rather seething. "Why else would you say it? Everything you said back in Robotnik's base was true, wasn't it? That you never wanted me...that you think I'm...I'm a freak."

That part wasn't true, not even remotely. "Tails..."

"Stop calling me that!" It was the straw that broke the fox's back, and he let out a guttural noise that almost scared the hero. Before Sonic could correct himself, before he could try to explain things, the fox had already seen red. They had bent down, scooped up the largest rock they could find and hurled it at the hero.

Maybe it was because it was so unexpected, or maybe he thought the fox hadn't really meant it despite the absolute ire in their voice, but the hedgehog didn't move. Even as the rock came right for his head. It hurt, but somehow paled in comparison to the fox's next words right before they walked away.

"Leave me alone. And go to hell, Sonic"

#let me set the scene | answered #miles | guest stars #i write my own verso | drabble #familylightfox #tw long post

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enid-rhees · 1 year

Note

i absolutely love your enid fics 😭😭

i was wondering if i could request an enid x reader where they were both really good friends with carl and after he died they got even closer? like falling for eachother and finding comfort in one another? thanks!!

have a good day/night! <3

hi anon !! and tysm that means a lot 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy! have a good day/night as well 🫶🏻

warnings: angst, it is a bit revolved around Carl’s death. spoilers for season 8 of TWD. reader has trouble eating/taking care of herself in general.

A/N: hope you all enjoy! reminder that requests are open! i have to update a few things in my pinned but read pinned if you’d like to req!

- flashback -

the gate opened and you forced yourself to move, your legs moving slowly against the grass. you looked up, your tired eyes meeting the eyes of others you weren’t quite familiar with yet.

Carol came walking towards you guys, and with one shake of his head from Daryl, she knew.

then you saw Enid run out from the building, and dread filled you, almost weighing out the intense pain you felt in your chest. she came up directly to you, eyes searching your face for an answer.

a single sob left your lips, and that’s all it took for Enid to realize what happened. you took one step forward, falling into her arms. she wrapped them around you tightly, crying into your neck.

“Y/N?” she asked, taking in a deep breath to try and remain calm. “what happened?” she whispered. “please, you need to tell me.”

your body shook with each sob that left you. “he got bit,” you managed to cry out. you watched all color drain from her face, her mouth opened to say something back, but all that came out was a choked sob.

- present -

it has hard without him and it was easy to admit that. you had known him since the beginning of everything. you’ve gone through the worst possible scenarios with him. and when you two found Enid, it had felt like you were complete. your two best friends were all you needed during this mess of a world.

that night still kept you up, holding his weak hand as he told you that you would always be his best friend, even though he would be gone within a few hours. you could never forget him telling you to make sure you and Enid take care of each other. that was your only mission left.

you sucked in a jagged breath, wrapping his flannel tight around your body. your shaky hand brought up the spoonful of food, taking a small bite. afterwards, you pushed the plate away, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore.

it had only been a month since it happened, but nothing was good enough to make it slightly better. it felt like there was now a missing hole in your body that was irreplaceable. but it brought you and Enid even closer than before. there was a sense of comfort that Enid radiated.

you picked up the plate, placing the leftovers in a plastic container and putting it in the fridge. as you turned away from it, footsteps starting to descend from the stairs.

Enid walked around the corner, smiling softly at you. “hey.” she said. “hey,” you said back. “just wake up?” you asked. she shook her head, “no, no. i was just cleaning up my room.”

she looked down at your outfit, pouting slightly. “Y/N, you’ve been wearing his flannel for almost a week now. we need to clean it.” you wrapped your arms over yourself self-consciously, looking down at it.

“it’ll only be for a day,” she reassured. you hesitantly slipped the flannel off, handing it to her. “Carol will wash it for you. i’ll make sure she takes care of it, okay?” you nodded, knowing she was only doing what was best. “okay.”

as much as it also affected Enid, she dealt with the pain in a much different way than you. she constantly busied herself with chores, taking other people’s shift and constantly fixing things that didn’t need fixing just to try and avoid thinking about it. meanwhile, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. his letter, the way he looked in your last moments together. everything stuck with you. both of you tried to work your way through it just to be there for each other.

Enid pulled you into an unexpected hug, pressing a kiss to your head in the process. you felt your face burn. “did you eat today?” she asked. you nodded again, “yeah.”

“good.” she hummed. “lets go sit outside, you need some sun.” you agreed, despite wanting to stay inside. Enid wrapped an arm over your shoulder, taking you outside with her.

when you walked out, the air was cold; the way you liked it. people smiled at you, and you gave them small smiles back. Enid led you to the empty watch tower, sitting down against the wood.

“it’s nice out here, isn’t it?” she asked you. you looked over at her, getting lost in her eyes. “yeah, it is.”

she inched closer to you, laying her head on your shoulder. you rested yours on her head, basking in the comfort from her. to you it was crazy how calm Enid could make you feel just by being there.

you spoke up, hesitating a bit. “thank you, Enid.” you said quietly. she looked at you with a confused expression, “for what?” you shrugged, “for… being there for me.” her expression softened, “i’ll always be here for you, Y/N. you don’t need to thank me.”

“i know,” you said back. “but this last month especially, you chose to stay by me even though you were going through the same pain.”

Enid got in front of you and held your face in her hands, forcing you to look directly in her eyes. “we promised we would take care of each other for Carl. i’m not breaking that promise, Y/N.” her voice shook as she tried to not to cry, taking in deep breaths.

“i’m not either.” you said. you leaned in closer, her breath started to fan onto you. she looked down at your lips, and slowly, you both started to lean in.

your lips connected in a short and soft kiss. a small smile started to form on both of your faces. Enid leaned forward again, capturing your lips in hers. you placed a hand on the back of her head, tangling your fingers in her hair.

“i’ll always take care of you.” she whispered against your lips. “and i’ll always take care of you,” you said back. “forever.”

Enid smiled, “forever.”

#enid twd #enid rhee #enid rhee x reader #enid rhee x fem!reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd

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mccall-muffin · 2 years

Note

Hello my love! I saw your tags about more Lipton content, and since you're looking for prompts, I was wondering if I could request something with him? Because you are absolutely right, he needs more fics 😌 Fluff, angst, anything - it's up to you! 😉 Thank you bestie! 💕🕊️

Well, well, well - I guess, that one's on me 😋😋 Thank you so much for the request, love 🥰

This is for you my bestie @softguarnere! I really hope you like it and as for the topics...: why not a little bit of everything!

What lasts long finally becomes good // Carwood Lipton x Reader

Warnings: Language, War, Fluff

January 16, 1945 - Rachamps, Belgium

You sit in the church and stare at nothing, completely downtrodden. The last month was pure horror, and now you're glad to have a roof over your head for the first time in a long time. You already thought that your limbs couldn't get warm anymore, but now this seems to be the case. With half an ear, you listen to the choir organized by the nuns, but the sound of the explosions is still ringing in your head.

You rest your elbows on your legs and rub your face.

"Here," someone in front of you then says, and you look up. It's George, holding out a cup to you. "Hot coffee... Should revive your spirits," he adds, and you accept the cup gratefully. George drops down on the bench beside you and sighs deeply. You carefully bring the cup to your mouth and sip. The warm liquid flows through you, warming you from the inside. "That was just what I needed," you say softly, smiling tiredly at George from the side. "I'm glad I could help."

The two of you sit silently next to each other, continuing to stare at each other and sip your coffee. Suddenly, George nudges you and points his head forward. You spot Lip and Speirs talking to each other when you look up. "What do you think it's about?" asks George, and you shrug before averting your eyes again.

"Everything okay between you and Lip?" Now you look at George again. "I don't know," you sigh after a while. "I haven't talked to Lip since... Not really talked to him since the incident with Hoobs." George frowns. "Why is that?" You shake your head, sighing. "I don't know. I had my duties, and he had his, I guess." "Y/N..." "Just leave it alone, please, George," you interrupt him immediately.

Lip and you got along very well from the beginning. Since the first day, you joined them in Toccoa. In the start, Lip was just your friend, but as time passed, you quickly realized that you felt more for him than friendship. The men noticed this too, and of course, they didn't let it stop them from teasing you about it.

You were sure Lip felt the same way about you as you did about him, even though he never told you or moved in that direction. He's too reserved and correct for that, precisely the qualities you value so much in him.

Even when you went to war and faced the threat of one of you dying almost every day, that didn't change. Except for occasional hugs, light hand-holding, or intimate conversations in the foxholes, nothing more ever happened. You share Lip's opinion here that this has no place in war. And yet your feelings have not vanished into thin air; no, they have only intensified since then.

You dare another glance at Lip, who is reading something but seems to sense your gaze because, at that moment, he raises his head and looks at you.

For a few seconds that feel like hours, your eye contact lingers. Then you break off, zip up your jacket, and leave the church. "Hey, where are you going?" calls George after you, but you ignore him.

Outside, you fight back the tears. Your breathing quickens, and with trembling fingers, you light a smoke. Immediately, the cold creeps back into your body. With your free hand, you rub your arm, trying to warm it somehow. As you blow out the smoke, you shiver.

"You shouldn't be out here. It's warm inside; you can warm up there. We've spent enough time in the cold for now.,"

You don't need to turn around to know who is followed outside. Keeping your eyes fixed on the house across the street, you take another drag of your smoke. "Ah, now you're talking to me?" you ask, your lip quivering. Lip steps closer to you. He doesn't say anything at first before standing right next to you. "Y/N... I... I didn't know what to do..." Now you look at him but immediately turn away from him again.

Your eyes start to burn again. Hoobs was your best friend. You loved spending time with him. He was funny and always upbeat, and through him, you could forget the horrors of war for a while. And then came that fucking Luger. The fucking Luger he was talking about since fucking Normandy. And on which he finally got his hands on. You were with him in his final seconds, at least. You held his hand and tried to comfort him. You told him that everything was going to be okay. When he was gone, you were angry. Angry with him that he broke his promise that you two would go home together after this fucking war is over. Angry at the Krauts, for having these stupid guns everyone wants to get. Angry at god that he took your best friend.

You sat in your foxhole for hours, waiting for Lip to come to you and hold you, but he never did. He never told you that he will be there for you, no matter what happens. He never held you, rubbed your back, and told you that the place Hoobs is now is much safer and nicer than the cold hell you were in. He just never came to you.

Lip hesitantly raises a hand and wants to put it on your shoulder, but you immediately take a step away from him. "I needed you, you know," you say quietly, your eyes fixed on the floor. "I know," he whispers back. "And I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I just didn't know what I could say or do to help you." "You didn't have to say or do anything; you just had to be there."

You look up at Lip again. "I felt so alone when - when Hoobs was gone. And then Bill and Joe and Muck and Penkala, too... I didn't know what to do anymore. I didn't know how to survive the whole thing. I know you had to do a lot, Lip, with Dike and all, but..." You break off. "But you still needed me." You nod. "I still need you."

Now you look at him again. Tears glisten in your eyes. Lip blinks a few times before closing the gap between you and hugging you. You bury your head against his chest and wrap your arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. It won't happen again, I promise. Do you forgive me?" You nod. "I would forgive you anything, Carwood."

As you break away from each other again, you quickly wipe away the tear that strayed onto your cheek. Lip smiles softly at you and gently holds your hand as his thumb draws circles on the back of your hand.

Then, however, he begins to cough. And it doesn't sound pleasant at all. You raise your eyebrows. "Come on. Let's get you back inside before you catch pneumonia."

February 5, 1945 - Haguenau, France

As you predicted to Lip, he has indeed caught pneumonia that won't go away.

Exhausted, you sit on one of the beds of the second platoon and wait. Waiting for new orders. Anything. Suddenly, Malarkey comes into the room. "Y/N, Captain Speirs is looking for you," he says, looking at you. Malarkey is even worse off than you are, you realize. You nod to him and stand up.

When you arrive at the CP, you immediately spot Lip snuggled up on a sofa, still looking bad. You smile tiredly at him, then walk up to Speirs. "Captain Speirs?" you ask when you spot him. "Yes, Y/N. I was thinking of pulling you back from the front lines for a moment and stationing you here in the CP," he says, and you look at him in surprise. "You can help Luz and..." He pauses for a moment. "Take care of Lipton. I want him to finally get better."

Speirs turns away from you again and walks over to Winters and Nixon. You look after him for a moment before turning to Lip. You walk hesitantly toward him. "How are you doing?" you ask, and he looks up. He straightens up a bit but then immediately coughs again. "Still the same," he then says. "Can I get you anything?" Lip takes a deep breath and then looks at you again. "A... A cup of coffee would be nice," he says, and you nod before getting him one.

You hold it out to him and then prop yourself on the backrest as you watch him take a sip. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asks after a while. "Speirs told me to take care of you." Just as Lip is about to say something, someone you didn't expect enters the CP. It's Webster.

George also enters the CP at that moment. "Hey, Y/N, I hear you get to play nurse?" he says, and you look at him, rolling your eyes. Then he, too, spots Webster. "Well, look who's here," he says less euphorically. " Yeah. Sergeant Lipton?" he then turns to Lip. You watch Web closely. "Feeling all right?" he asks, and you stand up. "He's got pneumonia," you say directly, walking up to Web. "I'm sorry to hear that." "What are you sorry about?" you now gift Web and push past him to grab the pot of coffee again to top Lip off. "He's alive; he's got a couch, a blanket, snug as a bug." "Come on, Y/N. Give him some slack," Lip quietly says, and you look at him.

Web looks at you in irritation. You've never been this averse to him before. He clears his throat. "Yeah. Sgt. Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd Platoon." Lip holds your gaze for a moment before turning to Web. "Have a seat, Webster. We'll get you situated."

Web sits down as Lip instructed. "How long have you been sick?" he asks. "Long enough," you interject. "And now let him. Let him get some rest. Speirs will be here in a minute." You watch Lip close his eyes, slightly annoyed. "Y/N? Can you do me a favor?" "Sure." "Find Doc and ask him if he has any penicillin left." You know exactly what Lip's trying to do with this. He doesn't want you to keep giving Web a hard time, which is why he's sending you away. Briefly, you look at him a little annoyed before leaving the CP and looking for Doc.

When you return to Lip a little later with penicillin in your pocket, you quickly realize something is wrong. You immediately kneel down to him. "What's wrong?" you ask, taking his hand in yours. He looks up, and his forehead is adorned with his typical, thoughtful wrinkle that always becomes visible when he's convulsively thinking.

Lip looks around briefly to make sure no one else is listening. "They're planning a patrol to the other side of the river, and they want Malarkey to lead it." "What?!" you ask, surprised. "Malarkey? That... They can't do that! He needs a break." Lip nods at you in agreement.

Then he lifts his hand and puts it on your cheek. "I'm glad you don't have to go, Y/N," he almost whispers, and you don't know if his action comes because of the fever or not. He tenderly strokes your cheek with his thumb and, very gently, your lip. You look at him in surprise. You notice him leaning forward a little, but then you hear footsteps approaching. You look up quickly and pull away from Lip.

Speirs enters the room and eyes you both briefly. "First sergeant? Can you make it to brief the men?" he then asks, and Lip nods. "Yes, I can," he says and stands up with a struggle. "Good, then both of you get a shower right away. You've got the tents set up," Speirs continues, looking at you and Lip. You nod and then follow Lip outside.

February 22, 1945 - Haguenau, France

Lip is finally feeling better. His fever is gone, and the cough is almost gone. You are helping George carry away some boxes when you see Lip join the other officers. He looks at you briefly and gives you a small smile.

"I guess this is it," George says next to you, also looking over at the group. "What do you mean?" you ask, irritated. "Didn't you catch it? Don't tell me you didn't hear it." You continue to look at George in confusion.

"Lips battelfied commission."

Again, you look to the officers. Winters, Nixon, Speirs, and Welsh, who is also back, shake Lip's hand. "Damn, I totally forgot," you mutter to yourself.

"Gonna be even harder for you now, huh?" "What the fuck are you talking about, George?" George has his typical grin on his face. "Well... Two enlisted soldiers between themselves are fine to do what they want... Most of the time, at least. But an officer and an enlisted - I don't know." You punch George on the shoulder. "Shut up, Luz! That's not how it is between Lip and me." "Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, Y/N."

"Just shut up, George. I'll take these quickly to OP2," you then say, grabbing two boxes before leaving the house.

"Hey," Lip calls after you, following you out of the house. "Hey," you say as well, looking at him and then continuing through one of the alleys. Lip is still following you. "Wait, give me those," he says, reaching for the boxes. When he grazes your hand, however, you are startled and drop it.

You stand there, stunned, and look at Lip. He looks at you, too. And then you don't care. You step forward, take Lip's face, and finally kiss him. Lip, as expected, is completely overwhelmed and taken aback by your action, so you immediately pull away from him. You lower your eyes and take a step back.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have done that," you mumble, barely daring to look him in the eye. "Y/N," he says quietly, and you look up again. Lip's expression is gentle, and he smiles slightly before taking a step forward. Now it's he who takes your face in his hands. He studies your face before leaning down and kissing you tenderly.

You put your arms around him and pull him a little closer to you. You feel Lip smile against your lips.

Suddenly you feel his tongue brush your lower lip, and you automatically open your mouth. Lip's hands are on your hips now, and you have yours around his neck. Enjoying each other, you both stand in the alley and kiss passionately.

Then, as Lip pulls away from you, he smiles at you. "That was..." you whisper, but he immediately silences you with another quick kiss. "Late," he then says, which makes you laugh. You lean back against the wall of the house and look at him. Lip bites his lips but can't hide a smile.

"Hey, Y/N!" then calls George, who is just turning the corner. "The boxes aren't going to carry themselves to OP2." Instantly, you're back to reality. "Oh yeah," you say quickly and want to bend down for the boxes, but Lip is faster. "I'll take these," he says, already picking up the boxes. "You know you don't have to do that, right?" you ask, amused, and he nods at you with a smile.

Once you've dropped off the errands at OP2, you make your way back to the CP.

Suddenly, however, Lip grabs you, presses you against the wall, and his lips back on yours. Surprised and out of breath, you look at him. "Who are you? And what have you done with the reticent Carwood Lipton?" you ask, amused, but Lip looks at you. "I love you."

The smile on your face disappears, giving way to exuberance. "What?" Lip, who must have just realized what he said too, becomes slightly unsure. "I... I love you, Y/N." "Holy shit!" Lip raises his eyebrows, then frowns. Spotting his look, you immediately put a hand on his arm. "No, no! I'm... I'm sorry. I just didn't expect that" you say quickly, and Lip hangs his head before taking a step back. "And I didn't mean it," you say with your eyes closed and shaking your head, annoyed at your own stupidity.

You grab Lip by his jacket and pull him to you. "I love you too," you say before kissing him again.

#Band of Brothers #Requests :D #Carwood Lipton x Reader #BoB x Reader #Lipton x Reader #bobedit #hbo war #hbo series #For my BESTIE!#THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST #Donnie Wahlberg

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deans-writing · 9 months

Text

I don't have a good name for this

Characters: (GG&C) Dean King, Frankie

Warnings: Violence, injury

Notes: fuck Frankie all my homies hate Frankie

Thugtown had turned into nothing more than a ruined city, the gas dropped by the military having made every area below nothing short of lethal. The fumes alone singed Dean's nostrils, forcing his eyes to water. Not enough to kill him though, just like every other goddamn thing in there. From zombies, to goons, to giant goddamn rats that spit acid, everything got mowed down.

Just like the damn blimp, if it could even be considered that anymore. Blimps normally didn't have fully automatic machine guns attached to them, they also didn't usually have a fucking weasel swinging it around the top of the only rooftop that hadn't been ravaged by the chemical gas below. Frankie's time in the army had unfortunately come into play, the only thing that had stopped Dean from murdering him when he still had himself on the roof. It made Dean think as he dove from cover to cover, avoiding the hail of gunfire being rained down on him from Frankie's backup plan.

If it hadn't been for the bastards mistake, Dean wasn't sure he would've actually gotten the upper hand.

Frankie had gotten cocky (he assumed, at least), reaching away from his mounted machine gun, to grab onto a rocket launcher. He was either stupid to arm himself like that, or insane. Dean figured both. He was busy trying to set it up on his shoulder to fire down on the roof, leaving himself vulnerable, unable to move away in time. Just a single stray would send him back. He didn't need to be accurate, just aim in the general direction.

Keeping that thought fresh in his head, he aimed his Thompson up. Frankie wasn't even looking, the dumb prick. That allowed Dean to begin spraying, he kept the gun held down in the area that Frankie's body was in, and although most bullets just hit the blimp- it was the few strays that got him. First, it whizzed right past his head. Then, it clipped him. Right in the shoulder, enough to make him lose his grip. The rocket fell forward as he fell back, and like a delivery from God, it landed damn near right in front of Dean.

The blimp couldn't go down, he needed it to get out. That machine gun though, that could go. He would've loved to stop and think about the logistics. Like how the armor Frankie had put on the blimp may have ripped off and ruined his chance of escape from the splash radius alone, or how the gun's weight being blown to hell would shift the weight of everything- but he couldn't. It had to go down, or he didn't have a chance in hell at getting out with his life.

Dean shot out of cover, dropping his Thompson to grab onto the launcher, his hands grasping at it as he moved them to hold it semi-properly. If he were less desperate, maybe he would've been worried that the fall it had taken would result in a misfire when he attempted to use it. So many things that could go wrong, but he was forced to take each chance. If he didn't, he was going to die. And he refused to die in that shithole.

Rolling onto his back, he took a moment. Frankie was still getting back up after taking his own tumble, and he hadn't even yet noticed that he'd lost his second biggest advantage. He had to aim, if he shot dead at the blimp, it was going down, and he'd be stuck. A moving target, at an angle, while not even holding it over his shoulder. He'd have to be the luckiest son of a bitch alive to nail it from there.

Do or die.

He slammed down on the trigger, and watched with bated breath as the rocket propelled from the tube of a weapon, moving towards the blimps gun. It felt as if everything was going slower, his entire life came down to that single shot. He could just barely see Frankie in the blimp still, eyes widening as realization dawned on him as to what was really happening.

Impact was inevitable, Dean watched with nothing short of absolute relief as the rocket crashed into the gun, almost instantly exploding. The armor on the blimp shook, before coming off with the sheer force of the explosion. Frankie was also hit by it, still being close, the blast radius sent him flying back and slamming against the innards of the blimp. Nothing was stopping Dean from boarding now.

They both knew that, and both reacted appropriately. Frankie began to get up and reach the controls, trying to get the blimp away fast enough, before Dean could make a move. Although he could barely move, courtesy of being so close to the explosion just moments before. Unfortunately for him, Dean had already rushed to his feet. The launcher found it's place at the ground once more, being chucked off to the side as Dean sprinted at full speed to the ledge, before pushing himself off of it to leap forward.

He latched onto the bottom of the entrance, his knuckles turning ghastly white as he gripped with every bit of force he had. Dean's arms strained as he pulled up, folding over onto the inside of the blimp with his upper half as he dragged the rest of himself in behind, before sitting up on his knees to stare. Frankie was sitting on his ass, far away from any gun to defend himself. Like he had every other time Dean got close, he tried to talk.

"I was.. I was kiddin', y'know?" Frankie pushed on a fake smile, lying through his teeth. Dean sneered, getting up to his feet. "I ain't laughing." He snarled, taking quick and furious stomps towards the other male. "You fottuto maniaco. You killed the entire city, Bellucio, tried to kill ME- and guess what?"

Dean got down on one knee just in front of Frankie, leaning in close. "You lost."

He grabbed Frankie by the side of the head with one hand, before slamming him down into the floor. Dean cocked his other arm back, before punching down into his skull. His already bruised and battered knuckles cracked against his cranium, but the sounds of Frankie's cries gave him the proper motivation to keep pounding.

It was therapeutic, a single target to unleash a night full of frustrations out on. He almost forgot about the screaming pain in every part of his body, the strained and worn out feeling that rumbled throughout every last muscle. He'd been pushed to his very limits, and made to go past them. At least he knew he could survive some crazy shit now.

However long it had been, 15 seconds, or 15 minutes, Dean didn't care. Time became nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but reality was still very much there. The gas was rising, and he needed to go. But there was one last thing he could do.

"Cmon." Dean grunted, finally ceasing his assault as the grip on Frankie's hair tightened. He stood up, pulling the other along with him back to the entrance. He shoved him back to the floor as he let go, replacing his hand with his shoe to his back. It was as if Frankie could read his mind, immediately beginning to sputter out. "You can't... You can't kill me! You need me!"

Dean glanced over to the controls, just a stick he could steer. Hopefully it wasn't anymore complicated than that. "I can figure it out... Cmon, Frankie." He paused, pressing forward with his shoe ever so slightly. "You like to fly, dontcha?"

There was a shout from Frankie as Dean gave the final push forward, kicking him straight out of the blimp, directly into the gassed and destroyed Thugtown below. If he wasn't dead from the gas alone, the landing was going to make him nothing more than a stain on the ground below.

It was over. Through blood, sweat, and a lot more blood, he'd managed to pull through. He looked down at himself, at his torn up suit. His sleeves were ripped apart, his vest had been cut open, flashes of his white dress shirt beaming through. At least, in the spots where it wasn't soaked in blood and guts.

He just had to fly a blimp to finish off the night. Out of everything, that would be the easiest thing to do.

#dean king #writing

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secretly-inlovewithher · 1 year

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Closing a chapter

Well, this has been a whirlwind rollercoaster ride since like feb of this year (2023). And I'm at a point now where after everything, I feel like I've been given closure and can end this chapter peacefully.

we did no contact for about a week. It felt like an incredibly long week. And when we started talking again we kept it strictly platonic and were sending like max 10 messages a day. So conversations were light and short. We did this for like almost 2 months. But then it got to the point where i was just finding myself bored. I didn't want to continue conversation. She was telling me things like how she was cutting her grass because it was garbage day tomorrow and she could put out the lawn clippings. That was the conversation where it really hit me. I didn't want this anymore. The time we spent keeping chatting low, and only speaking platonically gave me a lot of time to think. I started to realize that maybe this was just something I was holding on to because I never got proper closure. And now I had that. I knew how she felt all those years, she had confessed it to me. I would have spent the rest of my life wondering and I think because of that I thought I still wanted her deep down. But I didn't. I don't.

The more we talked there were just more things I realized didn't click for me. We kissed once. And I hated it. We hooked up. I just felt like a body that was there. I felt absolutely no connection. That it could have been any other person and the experience would have been no different for her. And that was confirmation for me for everything I had thought I was feeling already. After that day I told her I needed to change how our relationship was progressing. That I only, in good conscience, could move forward with being just friends. I couldn't continue if she was hoping to get a romantic relationship out of this.

I'm glad I had the opportunity to explore this. I'm glad I was able to reconnect with her after all these years. And I'm glad for the short amount of time we spent together. But ultimately I was holding on to something - feelings I had almost 10+ years ago - that I no longer needed to hold on to. I'll be her friend if she wants to be friends. I've grown to a point where I don't need to look for her approval, or attraction, or wanting her ti like me anymore. I don't need that from her. I don't want that from her either. It's so odd to sit with this realization after desperately wanting all of those things for so long to just not need or want them anymore.

I'm grateful I knew her. The experience was life changing. Canon event, maybe? Lol. but I'm ready to move on from this. Close this chapter. And continue my story somewhere else. I wish her absolutely nothing but the best, and I found she finds all that she's looking for!

thank you all for being here. Thanks for all the support and kindness I've got over the years. But I'm ready to let this go now. I think I'll still lurk every now and then, but I don't think I'll have anything more to post after this. Thank you! Until we meet again <3

#teacher crush community #teacher x student #teacher crush #professor crush #teacher cc #tcc

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sondepoch · 2 years

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Oh, Sister! (Pierro x Reader ft. Harbingers)

You’ve always been a useless sister, a thorn at his side, his lone weakness amidst all his strength—but Pierro realizes you might be useful, for once, when he sees just how interested his fellow Harbingers are in you.

Or: Pierro gets the Harbingers in line by giving them an incentive. You.

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

TAGS: INCEST, dubcon, implied power dynamics, dom/sub, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, implied orgy, reader has a vagina and clit

PAIRING: Pierro x Reader (feat. the Harbingers)

GENERAL: This fic is part of a series. Each part of this series will feature a different character from Genshin Impact and their beloved little sister. Smut. You can read the masterlist for this series HERE.

He hates how much he loves you.

It’s always irked him. He’s the strongest man in the world, probably, someone who’s lived for centuries and felled whole civilizations at his sword, someone who’s even now plotting world domination—and yet, the Tsaritsa was able to conquer him so effortlessly with a single threat, reminding him that while he’s nigh invincible, you aren’t.

Pierro knows it’s not your fault you’re only useful for warming his cock, knows he can’t truly blame you for the way you’ve only ever thought with that pretty pussy of yours when he’s always been the brainpower for both of you—and, deep down inside, he knows he doesn’t actually hate it. Your soft, warm skin is the only thing he truly looks forward to anymore, and the comfort of your arms is the one thing keeping him sane.

Still, though, Pierro has always been frustrated with how much effort he puts into protecting you both, how little you're able to help him in turn.

Now is the chance to undo all of that.

When this is over, he’ll pepper your face with kisses until you’ve forgotten everything, until there’s a docile smile glued to your face and you’re giggling sweetly, wrapping your arms and legs around his body and reciprocating his love like the angel you are.

Now, however, is the time for order.

“P-please,” you whisper, tugging meekly on the giant robe he wears. “I’m scared. What if they hurt me, they don’t know—”

“I promise none of their cocks are larger than mine,” Pierro hums, lifting a big hand to cup your face. And, really, that much is true. Pierro isn’t exactly human, and his monsterlike body ranks first in everything: authority, power, and certainly size. Arlecchino’s waist has the girth of Pierro’s bicep, Tartaglia’s broad shoulders are the length of Pierro’s forearm, and Capitano—

Well, you might have a little trouble with Capitano.

But Pierro will make sure you’re well prepared for all of them.

“I don’t want them, though,” you whisper meekly, sniffing. Your nude figure curls in on itself atop Pierro’s lap, and the man almost considers changing his mind until he hears the sound of his fellow Harbingers’ footsteps drawing nearer. “Please, I only want you, please, brother, please just—”

“Pierro,” the Harbinger says smoothly before you can utter his name. “For this night, you must call me Pierro. Understand, love?”

“Okay, P-Pierro,” you stutter, and he can tell you hate the way his moniker falls off your lips, hate the way you can’t even call him by his true name.”But Pierro, please—”

Three knocks ring out from the other side of the hall, and the Harbinger can feel your whole body go still. He presses a comforting squeeze to your waist, kissing your forehead once, twice, and then he steels himself. For centuries, he has risked his life to keep you safe, using his body, mind, and soul to ensure nothing but the absolute best for you. Now, just for one night, he needs you to reciprocate a fraction of that sacrifice.

“I will watch,” he promises solemnly. “And if they push you too far, I will intervene.”

Slowly, you blink back tears and nod.

That’s all the affirmation Pierro needs.

“Come in,” he orders, and the double doors to the Fatui War Chamber swing wide open. Eight Harbingers waltz effortlessly into the deep blue darkness, their armors shining in the moonlight as you whimper at the sight. Already, they’re talking, bickering, arguing, and the noise raises a familiar headache to Pierro’s mind. Their countless squabbles overlap, and the Harbinger can hardly tell whose voice belongs to whom.

“—absolutely pointless, as always.”

“Is that so? I’d love to see you decipher the sacred texts. Or would you rather continue mourning—”

“Now, now, Dottore, let’s not go that far. I doubt—”

“Oh, is going far our concern now, Pantalone? If I recall, you were the one most adamant about—”

“Please, that was Pulcinella! I could never be so unmoved. Isn’t that true, Co—”

“Not at all. If anything, this entire argument is utterly—”

“Risible? I think it’s time to find a new adjective, dearest Marionette, or—”

“Must you always interrupt? Sometimes I wonder why Pierro hasn’t put you in your place yet.”

“Maybe it’s because Pierro appreciates my commentary. Isn’t that right, o' great lord Pi…”

All the Harbingers come to a halt when they finally look to the center of the room where their leader sits—but illuminated in the moonlight isn’t his figure alone. No, their eyes catch on the graceful shape of you, perched prettily on his thighs with a terrified, anxious look on your face that has each of them aching to get a better look. No one speaks. No one moves. For the first time since Signora's death, they seem truly stunned.

Good, Pierro thinks, enjoying their awed silence.

The man's lips curl into a grin when he sees how the sight of you instantly tames the lot of them. For the first time in weeks, these hallowed halls are dead silent even with every reporting Harbinger standing between them. Under their sharp, hungry gazes, you shift in Pierro’s lap, drawing your knees in so that they can’t see your pussy, your tits, but Pierro knows that the very sight of your flesh is enough.

“Well?” he calls, his empty smile bordering on a smirk. “You’re all late. Be seated at once.”

With unusual obedience, the Harbingers all move into their places, but they want your attention, now. Eyes fixed on you, they begin speaking.

“You had us under the impression that you wanted our efficiency to increase,” Capitano calls, his empty head of armor twisted your way. “Or have you already acquired Scaramouche’s whereabouts?”

“Maybe he finally got bored of figuring out how to hunt Scaramouche down,” Tartaglia taunts. "Or maybe he's just bored of us."

“Doubtful. The Tsaritsa ordered us to locate him. This isn’t the time for…” Sandrone’s cold eyes rake down your nude body. “...distractions.”

They’re right. Pierro usually only has you sit in on the most unimportant meetings: the ones where he doesn’t really need to be there but wants to simply keep them in line, playing with the folds of your pussy while his coworkers talk because he hates how their inefficient squabbling can keep him away from your loving embrace, hates how his position as Number One forces him to keep them in line even on the days where they don’t need him present.

Today, however, they have an important matter to discuss: something they’ve been debating for weeks.

For Pierro to bring you in now, when the time for them to finally agree and unite is drawing especially near—it goes against everything he’s ever done.

“Today, I have a challenge for you all,” Pierro says, and he can feel you squirm, feel you get nervous at the idea he’s about to pitch. “Since the incentive of the Tsaritsa’s favor isn’t enough for you fools, I’ve decided to give you another reward.”

Pierro wraps his thick fingers around your thighs, and with the barest shaving of his true iron strength, he pries your legs apart and pulls your back flush against his chest. Your pussy glistens from when Pierro had sucked on your clit earlier, twitches from how you’re still near that edge, and fully contracts in response to the eight hungry gazes that pierce it, and the pitiful whine that spills past your lips makes Pierro’s next offer even more tempting.

“Whoever pitches the idea to capture Scaramouche gets to make my little sister cum.”

And instantly, for the first time, all eight of them are actually trying to figure out how to acquire the Harbinger who got away, not one of them daring to ask why the ever-possessive Pierro is finally offering to let them fuck you when he used to threaten anyone with death for daring to look at you too long. Indeed, they're trying to make sure Pierro won't change his mind, trying to now complete the task he's presented them with in haste so that he won't take this tempting offer away—especially when they've watched him fuck you in front of them for weeks, all without ever having the permission to touch—and Pierro can only smile as his colleagues begin genuinely trying to determine the best way to bring Scaramouche back.

“—need to shut off the borders to Inazuma without starting a war. I can have my men pose as bandits around Ritou, and with him locked inside the nation, we can search for him island by island—”

“A dignitary like you could never understand, but such inaction is useless. Locating Scaramouche will never be enough. We’re better off distributing spies across the nearest nations with on-call skirmisher units to—”

“And risk losing valuable men and letting him realize we’re hunting him? The only people who can defeat Scaramouche are us fellow Harbingers. And I’m the strongest mobile fighter. I should go out on a hunt—”

“Oh, because you’re capable of being in every nation at once? A single bounty hunter isn’t enough. What we really need to do is contact every bank and threaten to cut off financial support unless Scaramouche is discovered. Then, they’ll have equal incentive to find him, so—”

For the first time, Pierro starts to hear real solutions.

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“See?” he whispers to you, grinning darkly. “You’re getting them to actually do something instead of sitting here like idiots. Doesn’t that make you proud?”

“They’re all looking at me…”

You squirm as Pierro continues to hold your legs apart, and he almost feels bad. Even as they discuss, all eight Harbingers keep their eyes fixed on you, like starving wolves staring at the first food they’ve seen in weeks. And Pierro doesn’t know how often the lot of them fuck, whether they all even have such base interests…but it’s clear that each of them wants that prize he's offering for themselves.

You seem to realize it, too, and your eyes flicker away from Pantalone's skittishly when they meet.

Pierro wants to tell you that your bashful little act, the way you’re so obviously anxious, only fuels them further. That these are monsters for men, and that they only want you more because of how scared you are of them.

But, your bashfulness is also what is making Pierro’s reward so tempting, so he lets you be.

The humidity in the room rises, and Pierro begins playing with your pussy. Your soft, quiet moan draws their attention instantly, and the first Harbinger raises an eyebrow when they go silent in hopes of hearing it again.

“What?” he asks. “I won’t let her cum. I’m just getting her wet for you.”

Pierro presses a finger inside your pussy, and the lewd moan that spills from your lips—a moan that taunts, tempts, and teases all of them because they’re doubtlessly desperate to hear that sound again, aching to be responsible for you making that sound again—could shatter the warming air.

Their focus on the task at hand increases in turn.

“Forget all of that. Scaramouche has always wanted to go to Natlan, let’s just search there, so—”

Something strange is in the air, Pierro can tell. It’s getting warmer, thicker, wetter—but he chalks it off to the rising tension of his fellow, visioned Harbingers.

“Fucking dumbass. We can’t ignore the chance of him being elsewhere. We should just put out a bounty—”

Pierro starts fucking you with his finger, subtly rubbing his growing bulge against your ass. A single glance around the table confirms that every other man is hard, and Pierro almost feels sorry for them.

“And risk someone else finding the Gnosis? Forget that, let’s just—”

He wipes away the sheen of sweat on your forehead, curling his finger into the one spot that always has your toes curling. It works, and instantly, you’re spreading your legs even wider for the audience, moaning debauchedly as you babble mindlessly about how good it feels, whimpering his name.

“No, no, a bounty might work if we make it Fatui-wide instead of—”

Pierro can feel your core beginning to clamp tighter and tighter around his finger, and right when you’re at the precipice, right when you’re there, he retracts.

“What if we—”

All the Harbingers fall silent when Pierro pulls his finger from you, cruelly yanking you away from your high when you were so close. At once, you start whining into the silence. “No, no, no,” you mewl, hips bucking in vain as you tug on Pierro’s robes, staring up at him with desperate, wanting eyes, ignorant to how your display of absolute whorishness will only make things worse for you. “Please let me cum, please, please just—”

Pierro feels guilty. Edging has always been your weakness, and while he’s at last grown used to your utter…shamelessness when tempted, his fellow Harbingers aren’t nearly as unaffected.

A beat of silence passes, and your lip curls into a pout.

Then, the eight Harbingers get even louder, standing up and beginning to shout ideas at each other. It's so intense that the humidity in the air starts rising again, so Pierro looks around warily at the room to see if one of the Harbingers is doing it intentionally, but all he finds is Tartaglia looking especially intensely at your quivering hole, ignoring the ongoing discussion in favor of watching your wanton expression.

What a child, Pierro thinks. How pathetic.

It’s getting too noisy for him to keep track of who’s suggesting what anymore. All he knows is that everyone's ideas are equally flawed, so he leaves the Harbingers to filter out the best plans themselves and merely continues playing with your pussy—this time focusing his attention on your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles.

“Oh,” you moan, eyes fluttering closed. All inhibitions seem to have vanished. “Oh, oh, Pierro—”

He builds you to another high, cautiously waiting for the moment he’ll have to rip it away, and the moisture in the room continues to rise unnaturally, your skin practically glowing with shine as you writhe and writhe, so edged from before that you’re already nearing another high, and—

Pierro pulls his fingers away from your hole with a smug grin, but he notices that the moisture of the room is getting higher. That it’s starting to get so wet and humid around your body that your little clit is reacting, and—

All the Harbingers fall silent when the humidity drops to nothing, cracking dry in the sudden, absolute absence of moisture, and you're so pathetic that the slap of evaporation that tugs through your folds is enough to push you over the edge even without physical stimulation. Pierro can only watch as your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a disgusting look of ecstasy washing through your face as you cum for all the Harbingers to see like a cheap whore, like a pathetic slut, like the useless little sister you are who can't even be put up as a reward without ruining things.

Pierro is furious.

“Tartaglia,” he hisses when he sees how the Hydro user is grinning in naivety at how his little trick with humidity made you cum. “Tartaglia, I could banish you from the Fatui for this, you—”

"What?" the young man asks, a broad grin on his face as he winks at you. "I didn't touch."

"You—"

“Do it again,” Pantalone interrupts, his ever-closed eyes opened into slits that stare, mesmerized, at your still-orgasmic face. “We may not be able to touch her yet, but—”

"No, let me try," Dottore interrupts, his own vision seeping into the air around you, and Pierro realizes that he might have tempted his soldiers too much.

The discussion around Scaramouche has stopped completely. Pierro realizes that they only discussed him to begin with because it was a means to an end, a way of possibly getting to touch you, and now, they've found another way to do that entirely. His leverage is lost, his stupid plan foiled, and—

And there's still a way to control them, Pierro realizes abruptly, seeing that he can still increase his original offer.

The Harbinger looks down at you, your dazed half-smile, and he wonders if you even realize that it was Tartaglia who made you cum. He can tell it just made you hornier, can feel the slick pooling on his thigh as you stare up at him with big, adoring eyes and...

Well, he thinks. This is just repayment for everything I've done for her.

Pierro glances around to room to confirm that every single person in the room is now ogling your body, the way you’re still twitching, the way you were able to cum untouched in a manner that doubtlessly has them all aching to replicate, aching to feel, aching to cause, and Pierro realizes that pitting his friends against each other was a mistake.

They all want you.

Bad enough to overcome even their hatred for each other, perhaps.

“Let me amend my earlier statement,” Pierro says, eyes dark. He pulls you closer in a silent apology, brushing his lips against your shoulder. “If all of you can come up with a singular plan to locate Scaramouche, I’ll let all of you fuck her.”

You stiffen in Pierro’s hold, and he raises the stakes ever higher.

“At the same time.”

And they react so quickly that they don’t even hear your terrified mewl, don’t even see the way you stare up at Pierro with betrayed, teary eyes that have his cock getting harder beneath those thick, furred robes.

"Don’t worry,” he mumbles. “I’ll prepare you,” he says, and he sticks two fingers into your twitching hole, stretching you methodically because he’s now certain you’ll need it.

But he hardly has time.

The Harbingers are so overcome with desire that they unite instantly under their shared goal to acquire you. No longer are they vying to win Pierro’s coveted award alone. At last, they’re on the same team, and with eight minds thinking together, they manage to identify a plan in unison that upholds the Fatui’s standards, minimizes resources and personnel wasted, and, most importantly, will locate Scaramouche with near-perfect efficiency.

Pierro is almost surprised at how quickly they do it: three weeks’ worth of arguments settling in a manner of minutes, and he wonders if this was always their plan, if they always wanted to put Pierro’s back to a wall so that they might get a chance at touching you.

Whatever the case is, he has no time to contemplate it.

Pierro kisses your forehead twice and then lays you out on the table.

You whimper pathetically, reaching out in vain for him, but all you catch is his shadow. Terrified eyes dart to the eight faces that are about to devour you, and Pierro sighs.

“First come first serve,” he says, and as punishment for Tartaglia’s earlier stunt, the man uses his vision to slow the eleventh Harbinger’s movements just a tad, letting all the others get their prized spots first, leaving the eleventh with only a hand that he quickly smells and nips and licks—and the sight that then graces Pierro has him thinking that you might truly enjoy this, that this will feel like a reward for you as much as it is one for them.

Then, Pierro sees the monstrous smiles on each of their faces—Arlecchino’s grin as she kneels between your legs on the table, Pantalone’s smirk as he shoves his fingers inside your mouth, Dottore’s simper as he presses both thumbs against your nipples—and Pierro realizes that he’s handed you over to monsters.

Well.

Perhaps this will be a good exercise for getting you used to their touch, their habits.

Because after seeing just how well these Harbingers worked when Pierro set you as their goal and prize, he realizes that he’s going to be doing it much more often in the future.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.3k

Notes: finally had the courage to post this stuff on main!! comment who you want to see next! hopefully it wont take me nine months to update, this time

Reblog, Comment, & Like

Thank you for reading <3

#genshin impact x reader #pierro x reader #pantalone x reader #capitano x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #those are the main ones i think at least #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact pierro #genshin impact pantalone #genshin impact childe #female reader #fem reader

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lou-struck · 3 years

Text

Peaches?

Wakatoshi Ushijima x reader

~ When you start to receive little green gifts on your porch, to say you're a bit confused is an understatement but it makes perfect sense to your neighbor.

W.C: 1.3K+

It started out with a nice-looking squash dropped off at your front door. Obviously, you were confused but assumed that one of your neighbors dropped it on their way to their apartment. The only problem with this theory was that the gourd is in perfect condition, not bruises, no deformities, and no supermarket stickers.

You pick up the squash and feel the strain in your muscles from its ginormous size. With a stumble, you bring it inside struggling to place it on your coffee table as you try to figure out what exactly is happening to you.

Asking around proved to be unsuccessful and no one came forward to claim it. Not wanting to waste something that looks so beautiful you decided to cook something up using as much of the squash as you possibly could. Once finished, you couldn't help but beam with pride at everything you have made believing the squash to be a one-time thing you return to your normal life eating a little more vegetables than you normally would as a twenty-something adult.

A few days later you Are walking down the hallway to your apartment, there on your floor mat is a large bundle of leafy greens. They look absolutely amazing, better than anything you could find at a high class grocer. But strangely enough, The bundle is tied up with a little bow almost as if it’s a bouquet. Once again you are confused by the gift but the presentation makes it look a lot more intentional than the squash. Thinking it’s harmless you look around to see if anyone nearby saw what happened. Seeing no one you pick up a bundle and take it into your house to wash off. Once you are 100% sure that there is no poison or danger in your little bundle of greens you put them away.

The next day while on your way to work you run into your neighbor the gorgeous Wakatosh Ushijima a pro volleyball player and one of the reasons you take the stairs in hopes of running into him. He walks past you with a large gym bag most likely from his morning practice.

“Hey” you say with a friendly wave. Hoping that he at least knows who you are.

“Hello,” he says returning the gesture and giving you a breathtaking small smile. His feature looks like they are carved in an intricate marble statue. You realize you have nothing else to say to the absolute paragon of a man I front of you. Embarrassed you walk past him not seeing the disappointed look on his face.

You curse your awkwardness till lunchtime where are you take out the salad you made courtesy of the greens left to you by what you are now calling it the ‘vegetable fairy.’

As you eat, your coworkers take note of how fresh your salad looks complimenting you on the greens and asking you where you got them. Not wanting to tell them that they just show up on your front door unannounced, you tell them that they are a gift from someone in your building.

As the days go by you have noticed a pattern for the vegetables being delivered, they always show up Thursday when you were at work. Your curiosity and slight lack of responsibility finally gets the better of you when you decide to take a day off work to catch your green gifter in the act.

You wait all day in your house watching one of Ushijima’s volleyball matches that was rescheduled from last week, you feel a little creepy watching your neighbor on television but he can’t tell if you’re staring over the television.

You check the clock and realize that it is now almost midnight, you never received a delivery. To be honest you’re a little disappointed. Does your admirer not like you anymore? Or worse did you scare them away with your not so subtle stake out?

Into feet, you go to wash your face and get ready for bed. I sleep watches over you you can’t stop thinking about the veggie fairy.

The next morning bright and early you hear a knock at your door, you weren’t expecting anyone so this was beyond confusing. Staring out the people you can’t see much, only the logo of a white training jacket with navy lettering. Carefully you open the door a bit to see who it is.

You are starting to see that it is Wakatoshi, not expecting to be graced by his pants and presents at your door ever in your lifetime your eyes light up and you greet him with a still sleepy smile.

“Ushijima, what brings you here so early?” You yawn out, still wondering if this is a dream

“y/n... “ He starts before hesitating. As he shifts you see he has one of his large hands behind his back. He takes a deep breath and removes his hand, he is holding a large bouquet of flowers.

“ they’re beautiful, Are these for me?” You gasp definitely thinking that this is a dream.

“Yes, I put them together myself.” He says probably handing it over to you. As you take it you don’t expect it to be as heavy as it is. As you examine it you notice that there are beautiful fuzzy peaches gently tied into display still on their dainty branches. They look so perfect you don’t even think they’re real until you feel the tender skin and smell the fragrance.

“Peaches?” You ask with an awestruck smile.

Yes, Is that okay? I saw you liked the other stuff I gave you.” He asks with a serious face despite to context.

“Wait, that was you!?” You say taken aback, you feel like your heart could stop right then and there. You try to subtly pinch yourself.

“You didnt know?” He asks furrowing his brow in confusion,

“I swear I didnt, did you leave a note?” you stammer out.

“A note?” He says cocking his head like a dog. The action looks forgien for someone as large as him to do but it’s still endearing. Suddenly he lets out a deep chuckle, it is rumbling and sooth you decided right there it is your new favorite sound. “I guess I should of put something I just wanted to make sure you got my gifts,” he explains as you both laugh.

That’s so cute, but why vegetables?”

“Did you like them?” A bit of unchararasteric worry flashes across his face.

“No! I mean yes! They were great!” you stammer out as his shoulder seems to relax a bit. It was so unique, I thought it was interesting the Veggie Fairy was paying me a visit.” you cover with a smile.

I’m glad you liked them My friend says that when you like someone you are supposed to get them stuff.” he says as the butterflies in your stomach threaten to take you away.

Your face heats up at his words. “You like me?” you ask gripping the stem of the bouquet tightly as you wait for him to confirm what he just said.

“Yes, I do like you.” He says with face full of warmth. “Do you accept my confession?”

“I- I do Wakatoshi.” you stutter.

He lets out a sigh of relief and carries on. “Good then I think the next step is for me to take you out on a date,” he says asking for your phone number.

The smile never leaves your face as he enters his information, never in your wildest dreams did you believe that your professional athlete neighbor upstairs would ask you out with a bouquet of Peaches.

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